


She's a Real Peach

by eluigih



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clexa Week 2017, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-09-28 02:29:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10066391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eluigih/pseuds/eluigih
Summary: Not wanting to attend her mother's wedding alone, Clarke hires Lexa to be her girlfriend (Lexa is very good at her job)





	1. Chapter 1

“What do you mean you can’t do it?”

Raven sighs on the other end of the phone, they’ve been going round in circles for about ten minutes and this point Clarke seems incapable of accepting the facts, “Exactly, that. You’re on your own for this one, Griffin.”

“But you’re my first pick, you’re usually so dependable, what gives?”

Raven pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration, as much as she enjoys hearing that she’s top of Clarke’s (very short) list, the sentiment isn't going to work as far as changing her mind goes, “Clarke,” Raven opts for an unusually firm tone, hoping Clarke will accept it this time, “I can hardly show up to your mom’s wedding as your date. She won’t be fooled and neither will anyone else, sure we’re okay at pretending in front of strangers but no one at that wedding is going to buy that we’ve suddenly fallen for each other—”

“We are totally believable,” Clarke cuts in, a last ditch attempt but an honest one.

They’ve followed the routine so many times and it just so happens that they can, in fact, pass for girlfriends when it’s necessary. Raven is an expert at helping Clarke escape unwanted attention or filling in for events that she can't stomach alone.

Clarke, on the other hand, is particularly gifted at family reunions, turning up late to some party that Raven was supposed to politely decline. She’s never been shy about admitting how much fun she has pissing off Raven’s conservative family, even if they don't stay long.

Raven smiles, fond memories of their escapades creeping in, she can’t deny that they make a good team, “Okay, I have to admit we’re good at it,” Raven concedes but wastes no time with the follow-up, she’s not about to cave and she’d been serious about the difficulty of pulling this one off, “but, you can’t be serious about this one, I’ve known your mom for years, I have my own invitation to the wedding.”

Clarke agrees, she knows the situation wouldn't be ideal but it’s certainly better than turning up alone. She loves her mother, even has a soft spot for the groom but all of her distant relatives in one room? No thank you.

She’s been successful in her attempts to avoid family gatherings so far but for some reason, she can’t find an excuse that justifies skipping out on her mother’s wedding.

“Raven, I need to do something, you what they're like when I show up alone, it’s unbearable,” Clarke’s not ashamed to admit that she’s begging now, she doesn't care if no one believes they're a real couple, the pretence will be enough to stop the parade of sympathetic looks and patronising comments when she tells a vaguely familiar face that she’s single.

It’s always some weird variation of sadness and optimism, ’Oh, you’re single, that’s so sad! Don’t worry I’m sure you’ll find someone’ and then there’s the sheer disbelief, ‘Single? No a pretty girl like you, I bet they’re all falling at your feet.’

Then there’s the unsolicited advice and cringe-worthy attempts to set her up, ‘You know my friend has a son, single, very successful, I’m sure he’d be interested, maybe I can make a call?’

Clarke shivers at the mere thought of having to endure that level of torture.

She lets out a groan at the lack of help on the other end of the phone, “Raven this is the part where you come up with some genius plan so that I don't have to go to this thing.”

“Look, if you’re really that desperate I may have a solution.”

Raven words are unsure, cautious and Clarke has absolutely no patience for them, “We both know how desperate I am, just spit it out.”

“It’s rather unorthodox,” she warns once more, she’s not entirely sure how Clarke is going to react and she wants to make sure that she’s given her friend every opportunity to turn down the option before it even leaves her mouth.

“Raven!” Clarke chides, if there’s a solution she wants to hear it.

“Okay, okay. Desperate I get it, right well I have this friend, she runs a rather unusual business but it might just be what you’re looking for.”

Clarke baulks at her friend's suggestion, “Raven, I’m not paying for some prostitute.”

Raven is taken aback by Clarke immediate rejection, she’d expected protests but not an immediate shut down,“Woah, offensive much, I warned you that it was unorthodox and when did you get such high moral standards I distinctly remember that unsuccessful two-week stint you had as a stripper, you’re not fooling anyone,” Raven pauses to get back on track, “Anyway, back to my original point, she’s not a prostitute, she’ll be your date for the weekend, you know, the perfect girlfriend, better than me that’s for sure. She’s good, Clarke, just think about it, it would solve all your problems.”

Raven hangs up before Clarke has the chance to discuss it any further.

____________

Twenty minutes

That’s how long Clarke lasts, well, nineteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds to be precise but that’s beside the point.

Within twenty minutes she’s already given into the idea of paying for a fake girlfriend, the desperation and Raven’s assurances that Lexa wasn't that bad were just about enough for her to push aside any remaining reservations.

The fact that it’s really her only option at this point, she’s left it way too late to persuade so random hook-up to do her a solid for a weekend and pretend that they’re dating.

“How much?” is all she says when Raven picks up on the second rings.

“You’ll have to call her for that stuff, awfully tacky to talk about pricing on the first date, don’t you think,” Raven chuckles to herself as she gives Clarke Lexa’s number and the best time to reach her.

____________

Apparently, these arrangements require preparation. At least that’s what Lexa had said when Clarke had finally built up the courage to use the phone the number. Lexa had been abrupt and unapologetic on the phone, she hadn't asked to know about Clarke, simply gave her a date and time to meet at a local cafe, ‘Thursday, 10 o’clock, don't be late, we’ll go over the details then’.

Clarke had brushed the seriousness off. I mean how hard can it be to be a pretend girlfriend for the weekend?

____________

Lexa looks up from her coffee and spots a nervous looking blonde matching the vague description she’d received on the phone, “You’re late”

Clarke swallows at the stern voice, Raven had failed to mention just how attractive her fake girlfriend would be and she’d had to do a double take just to check that she was in the right place and that the attractive stranger was actually the person she was meant to meeting, “Sorry,” Clarke apologises, even though she’s no more than five minutes late, “I just wasn't sure if you were the Lexa I was supposed to be meeting, you never told me what to look out for.”

Lexa’s face softens when she realises her mistake and for a second she chides herself for being so unprofessional. She’s not usually so short when talking to clients but Clarke had called on a rough day, “Oh, I guess should be the one apologising. Please, take a seat, Clarke we have a lot to talk about.”

“What do you want to know?” Clarke asks, relaxing slightly as she takes a seat across from the brunette.

Lexa is a stickler for planning, always has been. Fake dating can be complicated but it’s infinitely more complicated when the necessary research has been neglected, nothing causes suspicious like an ill-conceived lie and conflicting stories, “This meeting is just to go over the ground work, discuss what it is you want, creating our story and outlining my own rules for the weekend, basic stuff really.”

Clarke disagrees, this is anything but basic, there’s nothing normal about fabricating an entire life with some stranger, “Right, basic stuff.”

Lexa is powerless to stop the small smile that makes its way onto her lips, she may not have known Clarke long but she’s seen enough to know that she isn't going to be like any other client she’s had, “Why don't we start with you telling me where I’m actually going?”

Right. Start small, Clarke can handle that, “A wedding, my mother’s wedding.”

“Okay,” Lexa nods, opening her notepad to make some quick notes, “and is it going to be a big affair?”

“Is that really necessary?” Clarke asks gesturing to Lexa’s open notebook and overly pretentious pen.

Lexa raises an eyebrow, “Failing to prepare is preparing to fail, Clarke and I like to think I’m good at what I do,” Lexa's eyes drop back down to her notebook, pen poised and waiting for Clarke’s answer.

“It’s a weekend thing, wedding on the Saturday, family gathering on the Friday night and a farewell thing on Sunday, so it’s big, like everyone I’ve ever met big, there’s probably going to be some people I don't recognise as well but we can steer clear of those, I have zero interest in making friends with people I’m never going to see again.”

Lexa makes a few notes but doesn't comment on the size of the wedding or Clarke’s apparent disinterest to mingle with the guests. That’s not her job, “And do we want these people to like me?”

Clarke furrows her brows in confusion, “Why wouldn't I want them to like you? That would worse than showing up alone in the first place, I’d have to spend the weekend listening to people I see once a year trying to persuade me to dump my fictional girlfriend.”  
Lexa shrugs, she’s been tasked with making herself a nuisance on more than one occasion, “People don't always want the perfect setup, they want chaos and drama.”

“So you go and deliberately disturb the peace?”

“I do what I’m asked to Clarke, you pay for a service and I provide as best I can,” Lexa reiterates her position as a business woman.

“Which do you prefer?” Clarke asks, voice laced with curiosity.

It’s Lexa’s turn to be confused, “Prefer?”

“Which role? The perfect girlfriend of the disruptive guest.”

Lexa’s never really thought about, once a job is finished she doesn't like to dwell on it, but if she’s being honest she likes the feeling of being welcomed by a family for a weekend and that certainly doesn't happen when she turns with the sole intention of wreaking havoc, “We’re getting off track,” she points out, admirably dodging Clarke’s question and direction the attention back to her client, “What are your needs, Clarke?”

Clarke visibly pales at the phrasing, she hadn't expected Lexa to be so upfront, “Needs?” she all but squeaks.

“Yes, Clarke, your needs,” Lexa rolls her eyes at Clarke’s apparent squeamishness, “You’re hiring me to do a job and I want to make sure that you get everything you need from our arrangement.”

There are no untoward implications in Lexa’s words, her gaze is strong and unwavering but Clarke has to remind herself that this is nothing more than a business transaction, an arrangement, a mutually beneficial arrangement, Lexa gets her money and Clarke doesn't have to suffer through her mother’s wedding alone. “I guess, I’m looking for more of the perfect girlfriend then. I’m certainly looking for any more drama than necessary.”

Lexa nods once more, “Okay, so I think we should go over so details, backstory, how we met, how long we’ve been seeing each other, you know the b—”

“Basics, right yeah,” Clarke finishes, “so, I think we should keep it fairly close to the truth, they say that those are always the best lies,” Clarke waits for Lexa to nod before continuing, “So we could say that Raven introduced us?”

“I can work with that,” Lexa confirms, morphing into a business like demeanour, “and how long have we been dating?”

Clarke struggles to keep with the quick fire questions, “Erm, not long? My mom will already be annoyed that I haven't mentioned you, I don't want her thinking I’ve been keeping this a secret for too long.”

Lexa takes the chance to look up from her notepad and observes Clarke’s slightly flushed cheeks, “Right, a couple of months, nothing too serious but the potential for more, does that sound about right?”

Lexa says it with such ease the Clarke thinks this must be a fairly popular request, a client favourite. “Yeah, that works for me.”

Lexa jots down the framework of their setup, she has most of the information that she needs from Clarke, she tends to most of her work after the initial meeting, brushing up on the client’s family and how best to act to please them, “And how affectionate are we?”  
  


“Eh, the usual kind?” Clarke stumbles over her words.

Lexa can’t help but laugh at Clarke’s response, she has absolutely no idea what the usual kind is, “And what does the usual kind of affection entail exactly? How public do you want to be? Do we even hold hands? Kiss?”

Oh god, Clarke really hasn't thought this through, of course, they’re going to have to be affectionate, it’s hardly going to be believable if they spend the weekend standing three feet away from each other. “Yes”

“Yes?” Lexa laughs, “I’m going to need more than that, Clarke.”

“We do all that stuff,” Clarke frantically waves her hands, embarrassed by the topic of conversation. She really shouldn't be embarrassed, she a 26-year-old woman and she’s definitely done her fair share of hand holding, “I mean, if you’re comfortable with it, of course, I’m erm, usually quite carefree about that stuff so probably best to keep up appearances.”

Lexa nods in confirmation, smiling as she continues to make notes about their arrangement, “Alright, I think I have most of what I need, of course, we’ll have some time to finalise things before the wedding. There’s just the small matter of my rules and pricing to go over.”

Clarke gestures to give Lexa the go ahead, she feels slightly relieved at how easy this all appears to be, Lexa hadn't needed to know much and she seems to know what she’s doing.

“Okay, I like to start by saying that I don't break rules and I’d appreciate it if you respected them,” Lexa says seriously waiting for Clarke’s response before listing her rules, “They’re not complicated, really, there’s no contact, unless previously agreed upon. If at any point you want to upgrade our arrangement, that will need to be discussed beforehand.”

Clarke keeps her expression ambiguously still, “That’s it?”

“I do have one more but it’s the most important one,” Clarke braces herself for Lexa’s next words, “for the love of god please don’t fall in love with me.”

That was one rule that Clarke wasn't expecting but when she looks back at Lexa, she can see the woman smiling at her, “You get that a lot?”

“You’d be surprised”

Clarke really wouldn’t.

Clarke suppresses a smile, she much preferred Lexa when she let the facade slip and she gets a glimpse of what she's really like, “Will I be surprised by how much this is going to set me back?”

“I’ve been told I’m fairly cheap,” Lexa shrugs, keeping her smile in place. She’s had some difficult jobs in the past, jobs where she’s had to transform into something else, someone else to fit the bill but something tells her that this one is going to be a little easier, a little less forced.

Clarke breathes out a laugh at Lexa’s joke, enjoying the way things seem to have settled. Cheap or not, Clarke thinks this is going to be worth the money.

Lexa is subtle in the way she slides the paper across the table, watching as Clarke absorbs the number hidden on the other side.

“Do you need this all at once?” Clarke says, trying not to flinch at each digit, definitely not cheap.

Lexa nods, “I prefer my payment up front and in full.”  
Clarke discretely tucks the piece of paper in her pocket and returns her focus to Lexa, “That shouldn't be a problem.”

Lexa nods at the conclusion of business, raising to her feet and looking down at Clarke, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Clarke. Please try to be on time.”

Clarke waits until Lexa is out of sight before picking up her phone and calling the person responsible for all of this, “You could have warned me?”

“Is this about Lexa because I’m pretty sure I was clear about that one,” Raven replies, evidently displeased with Clarke’s level of gratitude

Clarke scoffs, “You failed to mention what she was actually like, it would have been nice to know that you were introducing me to an actual goddess.”

“Ah,” Raven sighs as the pieces fall into place, “So, you’re upset that I didn't tell you she was hot? Because I thought that was a given, I mean she is professional arm candy, Clarke, what did you expect?”

Clarke huffs at the lack of support from her friend, “A heads-up would have been nice.”

Raven can practically hear the pout in Clarke’s voice, “Relax, it’s only for the weekend. She’s good, though, right?”

“Yeah, she seems good,” Clarke admits

“Trust me, by the time you show up to your mother’s wedding, even I’ll have trouble believing that the whole thing is some sham to keep your family off your back.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, this isn't all of it, somewhat of a filler chapter but I wanted to post something so you guys weren't waiting too long.

Clarke’s been usually organised, she’d packed her bag a whole three hours before she was due to leave. Her plans travel were pretty much hassle free, she’d fully intended on driving to her mother’s house, given that it was only an hours drive and her plans haven't changed despite the inclusion of Lexa. She had been overly insistent on them travelling together, the shared arrival providing a realistic outlook of their relationship, while the trip itself would provide just enough time for Lexa to go over the details of their backstory and cement the remaining framework of their fabricated life together.

Clarke had made a conscious effort to be on time for her second meeting with Lexa, eager to get the weekend off to the best start possible. She also doesn't want to be late for meeting her mother. The wedding had been planned, meticulously, no detail left uncovered and now Clarke’s going to ruin that by showing up with a surprise girlfriend, but at least she’ll be on time.

She does one last check of her bag to make sure she’s not forgetting any, namely the envelope that contains a significant sum of money. She figures it’ll be easiest to just get the business part of their transaction out of the way first.

It’s all business, she reminds herself.

Satisfied with her ability to successfully pack a bag, Clarke makes a start towards the door, locking it behind her.

She lets out a breath to steady herself, today is the day. Her mother is getting married and she’s shelling out a small fortune just to ensure that she doesn't have to watch it happen alone.

Clarke shakes her head at her train of thought, a fruitless attempt to free herself of any remaining doubts about her need to bring a fake girlfriend (and Lexa in general).

She’s still very much on the fence about whether this is a good idea, but that’s the thing about ideas, you usually have to wait for them to pan out before the realisation and subsequent regret truly sets in.

____________

  
Clarke pulls up to the prearranged meeting place — a sketchy open all hours diner— with a whole five minutes to spare and she isn’t surprised to find Lexa already there, waiting for her, with a bag that looks it contains much more than the necessary amount belongs required for a weekend trip, not that Clarke has any room judge since her bag is at least twice the size of Lexa’s.

Lexa doesn't wait for an invitation, pushing herself off the wall and heading for the passenger door. Clarke makes a show of popping the boot and signalling for Lexa place her over-bearing luggage in there. It may only be an hours drive but she doesn't want Lexa to be subjected to the pain that is an inadequate amount of leg space.

“Have you been waiting long?” Clarke asks, once Lexa has settled into the passenger seat. There’s still an air of awkwardness surrounding them and Clarke’s not sure if an hour together is going to be enough to overcome the uneasiness she feels.

“Not really, I figured you wouldn't be super earlier and I didn't want to be late, so…” Lexa trails off with a shrug, watching intently as Clarke fidgets in her seat. “You’re nervous,” Lexa states when the car remains unmoved, it’s a common occurrence in her line of work and it doesn't take her long to spot the signs, that and well, Clarke is anything but subtle. When Clarke doesn't respond, Lexa makes an effort to calm her client, “Your nerves are displaced, Clarke. I’m very good at my job, trust me, you have nothing to worry about, no one will suspect a thing and your mom is going to love me.”

Lexa sounds so sure of herself, each word oozing confidence and Clarke has to admit that she finds the trait attractive. “That’s what I’m worried about,” she confesses, “well, I mean obviously I’m still concerned about this whole thing being catastrophically bad and I’ll be known as the ‘one who had to pay for a date to her mother’s wedding’… which would be embarrassing but, what if this, like goes well?”

Lexa scrunches her face in confusion, she’s never had a client that’s expressed concern about her being too good at her job, quite the opposite in fact, “You don't want this to go well?”

“No, I do, obviously I do,” Clarke replies immediately with a shake of the head, “just not too well,” she lets out a frustrated sigh at the look of bewilderment Lexa is directing her way and she realises she’s actually going to have to explain herself, “I don't want every date I bring home after you being compared to well…you. I mean that’s just not fair, right? It is kind of hard to beat someone that’s been tailor made to be the perfect girlfriend.”

Lexa has to bit her lip to stop the downright giddy smile from breaking out across her face. She’d been lying if she said that she didn't find Clarke’s little rant endearing. She’s also, maybe, just a little bit flattered that Clarke seems to think she’s unsurpassable. “Maybe you’ll just have to take me to every family gathering.”

“I don’t think I’d be able to afford it,” Clarke laughs, the lingering awkwardness evaporating with each passing second, “which reminds me,” Clarke makes a show of leaning over to reach her bag in the backseat and retrieving the strategically placed envelope filled with Lexa’s requested fee. “I think it’s all there,” Clarke says as she hands the envelope over to Lexa.

Lexa doesn't bother to check the amount as she takes the offered envelope and nonchalantly places it in her inside jacket pocket. “Thank you”

____________

 

Clarke is surprised to discover that Lexa is the talkative type, even if the majority of the conversation is just her attempts to learn a little more about Clarke and give Clarke some actual details to work with as well. She rattles off a full backstory, handfuls of a life.

Lexa tells her all about her childhood and the places she grew up. She mentions her own mother and how close they are before casually letting slip that she’s never met her father and has no intention of doing so.

She goes into great detail about her likes and dislikes. Clarke finds herself smiling just a little too much when Lexa goes off on some tangent about her love of documentaries and her so secret obsession with all things space related.

And maybe she laughs just a little too hard when Lexa reluctantly spills stories from her last job, about how she’d been duped into attending a lavish fundraiser and somehow managed to find herself being auctioned off to the highest bidder. The winning bidder gaining a cringe-worthy ‘I don't actually want to be here’ date. She’s sworn off fundraisers for the foreseeable future.

In the end, Clarke has to resist the urge to ask if any of it is real, to explore which elements are part of the real Lexa and which parts have just been manufactured to fit her needs.

She’s not sure she wants to know anyway.

____________

  
They both settle into a comfortable silence after that and Clarke takes the opportunity to let the numerous things she’s just learnt sink in, she knows she’s going to have put in fairly decent performance herself if this arrangement is going to work and it would definitely help if she was able to remember a thing or two about her girlfriend, given that they've supposedly been dating for 3 months.

She also knows just how nosey her relatives can be. She’ll never quite understand why the people that she sees roughly three times a year are so intent on knowing every little detail about her life. It’s unbelievably tedious.

They’re about ten minutes away from her mother’s house, where they'll be staying the night when Clarke has the sudden realisation that she’s yet to discuss the sleeping arrangements with Lexa. It seemed so insignificant in the grand scheme of things that it had totally slipped her mind. “We haven't talked about where we’ll be sleeping,” she states, visibly frazzled, she may not be the best planner in the world but Clarke hates to get herself caught up the spontaneity that arises from the lack of forward thinking.

Lexa startles slightly, the sound of Clarke’s voice drawing her from her quiet humming of an irritable but undeniably catchy chart-topper, “What?”

“Sleeping,” Clarke repeats, “we haven't planned that out, I mean my mom is going to expect us to share my old room.”

The news isn't a revelation for Lexa, she’d expected as much when Clarke had informed her that they were spending the night at her mother’s house, “Is that a problem?”

Clarke is quick to backtrack, the panic settling. She reminds herself that this really isn't a big deal. She can totally share a bed with Lexa, this is a professional relationship and she can hold up her end of the deal, rules and all. “No. Not at all, I just thought you should know before we get there,” she says with a level of calmness that she definitely doesn't feel, still she runs with it, “I know how much you like to be prepared,” she adds with a smirk.

Lexa scoffs at the blatant mocking, “Me being prepared is what makes this whole thing work,” she replies evenly, waving her hands between them.

“If you say so,” Clarke shrugs, “personally I’m a big fan of winging it, hasn't let me down yet,” she continues, a proud smile attached to her words.

Lexa grins, “I guess that's why I’m the professional.”

Clarke rolls her eyes at the overt smugness and latches onto the chance to change the subject, “You never actually asked me why”

“Why?”

“Why I had to resort to paying for a date,” Clarke clarifies

Lexa nods in acknowledgement, she never asks, doesn't like to concern herself with the why, she doesn't try to pinpoint the reason that ultimately led to her being hired, it only serves to further complicate things and that’s not her job. “Well you never asked why I do what I do,” Lexa fires back, “besides I’m usually hired for the same reasons, no one really likes to go to these things alone and you’ve already mentioned how nosey people can be, doesn't take a genius to figure out that I’m being used as a diversion of sorts, a shiny new thing to talk about so that we don't have to talk about you”

Clarke stays tight-lipped at Lexa’s analysis, she’s not far off but hearing someone else say it out loud kind of puts things in perspective and wonders how often Lexa feels used, “Why do you?”

Lexa has many reasons but mostly she likes the feeling of being needed, likes to switch off and become someone else for a while, despite how tiresome it can be. There’s also the money, the money is good, like, really good. She settles on the less personal answer, the one that makes the most sense on the outside, “It pays well.”

Clarke gets the feeling that there's a lot more Lexa’s business than just money but she doesn't push, doesn't think it would help if she did.

____________

By the time that Clarke pulls up at her mom’s house, she’s exhausted. She hasn't crammed that much information into her brain in such a small space of time since studying for her final exams at university.

Oh, how she hasn't missed that.

She shuts off the engine and chances a glance at Lexa, she’s not disappointed when she sees Lexa looking right at her with a daring grin that Clarke chooses to interpret as ‘show time’.

Clarke allows herself one calming breath before stepping out of the car, it's definitely show time


	3. Chapter 3

Clarke’s steps are steady and unsure at the same time, she has her luggage in one hand and Lexa in the other (she doesn't hate the way that feels) as she makes her way to the front door. It doesn't look too dissimilar to when she was last here, the garden is exactly the same, the well-maintained grass counterbalanced by a few unloved plants dotted around the border.

She takes some small comfort in the familiarity of it all.

Lexa, on the other hand, looks around with curious eyes, absorbing her surroundings, assumptions being made on every fragment. Each visual adding to the facts she’s already been given. She’d done her fair share of research before attending of course, but even she has to admit that she’s a little surprised by the house in general, far less intimidating than she’d first assumed. The Griffin household somehow managed to capture the essence of luxury home but maintained an element of modesty.

She gives Clarke’s hand a light squeeze and laces their fingers together, “You ready for this?” She all but whispers, mindful of any prying ears and Clarke’s overall comfort.

Clarke doesn't even get the chance to give her answer: a resounding no, before her mother is racing through the door and wrapping her arms around her in a hug that is much too enthusiastic for her tastes, more so when she considers the fact that it's only been about two weeks since they've seen each other.

Her mother’s hold is firm and she shows no signs of letting up anytime soon. Clarke keeps her discontent to herself as she reluctantly lets go of Lexa’s a hand to return the hug. She tries to get a glimpse of Lexa’s face over her mother’s shoulder but her attempts to get some sort of read on Lexa’s reaction are futile, her expression still and unclear as ever as she shifts on her feet and waits patiently for the reunion debacle to be over.

Lexa presence is the thing that finally tears them apart, Abby seemingly startling at the unexpected guest lingering in the background. She gives Clarke her best ‘mom’ look, a skill she likes to thinks she’s perfected throughout her parenting years and even if she doesn't have to use it as often as she did in Clarke’s teenage years it still elicits a sheepish but silent apology from Clarke. “You never mentioned you were bringing a date,” she tuts, stepping out of Clarke’s space and eyeing her guest.

Clarke clears her throat, dutifully taking her place by Lexa’s side.

Her mother’s eyes grow curious and Clarke’s rehearsed words fail to materialise.

There is a downright painful silence and far too many awkward hand gestures to squeeze into a ten-second time frame but Clarke’s mouth still can’t seem to form any words.

Clarke thanks every god she’s ever heard of when Lexa seems to get the message that she’s actually not going to say anything and springs into action.

“Ms Griffin, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Clarke talks about you so often that I feel like I already know you,” Lexa greets with a sweet and unassuming smile. Clarke has to refrain from scoffing at Lexa’s obvious but clearly effective attempts to worm her way into her mother’s good graces. “I’m sorry if my being here is in any way an inconvenience, I wasn't aware that my attendance would be a surprise.” She adds side-eying Clarke for good measure.

And okay, even if this whole _‘surprise this is my girlfriend’_ thing is technical her fault, Lexa had conveniently skipped over the part where she was going to openly pin all the subsequent upheaval on Clarke and she’s mildly offended at the way her mother seems to accept it without question.

Abby shakes her head, shrugging off Lexa’s apology. “Don’t worry, I know how she can be,” she smiles.

Rude, now Clarke’s more than mildly offended, she’s not even five minutes into this fake girlfriend ploy and she’s already regretting every decision she’s made up until this point. “and what is that supposed to mean?” Clarke grumbles, indignant in her enquiry.

Abby's only response is another glare, a momentary switch before she focuses her attention back on Clarke's guest, "I do believe you have me at a disadvantage, though, Clarke has told me anything about you,” another disappointed glare lands on Clarke and she feels herself practically wilting under the intensity. “Are you two friends or…,” Abby adds, trailing off with the wave of the hand. The last thing she wants to do is assume they are anything more than what they are, she’s made that mistake before and she’s eager to avoid the typical awkwardness that ensues.

Lexa makes a show of looking slightly affronted and Clarke gets the hint that it’s her time to shine, speaking up before Lexa has to introduce herself.

“Mom, this is Lexa… my girlfriend.”

Abby takes a second to digest the information, surprised to hear the word girlfriend even leave Clarke’s lips. Sure Clarke brought a few people home over the years but they've always had some ambiguous title attached, nothing concrete or remotely defined. A simple description that lets Abby know that she needn’t make too much of an effort as the chances of them crossing paths for a second time were slim at best.

“Girlfriend?” Abby clarifies, waiting for Clarke’s nod of acknowledgement before continuing, “And I’m just hearing about this now?”

Clarke gives a quick dismissive shrug, buys herself some time to come up with an answer that in no way reflects the fact that she’s only known Lexa for a few days and she’s already paid a heavy price for the privilege of her company. She finally decides on a bashful response, putting her arm around Lexa’s shoulder, in what she hopes is an affectionate manner, “What can I say? I’ve enjoyed keeping her all to myself.”

The answer seems to be accepted by Abby as she lets the subject of Clarke’s omission fade away in favour of becoming more acquainted with her daughter’s girlfriend.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” Abby says apologetically as she ushers them both into the house, “Clarke never mentioned she was seeing anyone or else I would have insisted on extending you an invite myself.”

Clarke sighs in relief as they finally make their way inside, the enclosure of her childhood home offering more than just physical warmth. The walls aligned with framed photographs that showcase her and her family throughout the years, usually she doesn't pay much attention to each captured moment but in this case, they provide her with a welcome distraction, one she intends to use to her full advantage. Loses herself in each memory as her mother drones on about Clarke’s inability to share valuable information about her life.

In any other circumstances, Abby’s disgruntled rambling would probably illicit some form of reaction, a defence no matter how weak but on this occasion she can’t really find in herself to argue, especially when she’s making some undeniably valid points but in this case she’s much too concerned with mass amount of distant relatives that seem to be closing in on her and Lexa. A competition to see who can uncover the truth first, some trial gossip to pass out throughout the weekend.

She just about manages to suppress a groan when she notices the frontrunner is none other than her great aunt Margaret.

“Relax,” Lexa whispers in a manner that is intended to be reassuring but in reality, the word offers very little comfort, “this is the easy part.” Lexa takes Clarke's hand in her own and puts on her most charming smile. She’s been doing this long enough to know that people rarely look past a smile, a shiny cover is more than enough to fool most people. “By the time this is over the only thing your family will suspect us of is being in love.”

Lexa sounds so sure.

Clarke is anything but certain.

“Mom, I thought we weren't having people over until later on,” Clarke complains, the only reason she’d agreed to arrive earlier was on the condition that she’d have at least two hours before being bombarded by her family.

“I lied,” Abby shrugs, “if I’d have let slip that people were going to be here then you wouldn't have shown up on time.” Clarke can’t help but feel that her mother's earlier reprimand is now somewhat hypocritical. “Besides, now they’ll all have more time to get to know your girlfriend.”

“Great”

Clarke doesn't get the chance to argue any further as she’s swept up in a hoard of greetings and pleasantries.

If Lexa’s fazed by the number of guests, she doesn't show it. She conducts herself with an almost regal manner, flitting from one family member to another. So effortless in the way she merges into each conversation, dragging an unwilling Clarke along with her. Clarke can do nothing but watch on in awe as Lexa effortlessly handles each exchange, to the point where if Clarke was just an outsider looking in, she’d have to assume that Lexa was actually the daughter of the bride.

Regardless, it’s a relief, the way that some of the pressure is taken off her shoulders, pure bliss that she doesn't have to carry each conversation. Lexa has this undeniable ability to answer a question without actually providing anything of substance and as frustrating as it is to be on the receiving end of that particular talent, it’s also an absolute joy to watch.

They’ve already successfully managed to work their way past three relatives that Clarke has absolutely no recollection of ever meeting - Abby had been coy enough to subtly drop their names into the conversation.

And it’s not a complete disaster thus far. In fact, it’s going well, great even.

For the first time since she’d put this whole plan in motion, Clarke is actually enjoying the benefits of a fake girlfriend. She hasn't had too many personal questions and Lexa had expertly dodged her uncle John’s entirely overt comment about how Clarke should really think about settling down sometime soon before it's too late. Apparently, after a certain age, she becomes undesirable, who knew?

____________

It doesn't take Clarke long to realise that her grandparents are particularly susceptible to Lexa’s charm. So much so that her grandmother actually chides _her_ about treating _Lexa_ right. That there will be hell to pay if she somehow finds out that Clarke has done something outlandishly stupid to mess things up.

It’s an unexpected feeling, having her grandmother unequivocally approve of Lexa, especially when Clarke considers that so many before her haven't been afforded that particular luxury. Her grandmother had always painstakingly picky when it came to Clarke’s dates, overly critical with her assessments. Always capable of finding even the most minuscule of flaws to justify her opinion.

She also wasn't shy about expressing her opinion, usually something along the lines of _‘they don’t deserve you or you can do a lot better that Clarke.’_

Clarke had pretty much given up on finding anyone that could successfully manoeuvre their way past that level of scrutiny.

So when her grandmother whispers that she should do her best to hold on to Lexa or she’ll regret it, Clarke can only respond with a defeated laugh and ‘Oh, believe me, I’m trying.’

Lexa overhears, of course, and naturally she goes on some unprovoked tangent about how she’s technically the _‘lucky one’_ and _‘how anyone would be lucky to call Clarke theirs’_ , Clarke begrudgingly admits, not for the first time, that maybe bringing Lexa along wasn't such a bad idea.

____________

“Clarke!”

For the first time in what feels like hours, Clarke actually feels a tinge of happiness at the sound of her name being shouted from across the room. The feeling doesn't dwindle when she turns and finds her cousin looking at her with his arms wide open. She doesn't put much thought into it when she bounds on over and into to his arms.

It’s a relief to actually see a friendly face or just a face that she can put a name to without being prompted.

Clarke detaches herself from his grip,“Wells. I didn't think you were coming.”

“And miss out on all this fun,” Wells replies, hands waving around the room in a melodramatic fashion. “Speaking of which, what’s this I hear about you having a girlfriend.”

“I may have brought along someone,” Clarke admits rather vaguely

“That someone wouldn't happen to be that gorgeous specimen staring at us from across the room, would it?” He says, tilting his in Lexa’s direction.

Clarke turns to see who Wells is pointing out, despite being pretty sure that there’s no-one else below the grand old age of forty in attendance. She gives Lexa a little wave and waits for it to be returned, “It might be”

“Well, shit, Griffin. She’s way out of your league… how did you manage to pull that one off?”

“Ass,” Clarke fires back, landing a sharp jab to her cousin's upper arm.

She hopes it hurts, “Just for that, I’m not going to introduce you.”

____________

  
“See, this isn't so bad,” Lexa says, when the finally get a moment alone together.

Clarke gives a noncommittal hum and hands Lexa a much-needed drink, “Eh, I’ve experienced worse,” she admits, “you're lucky I didn't drag you along to my grandma’s 70th a few months back. Now that was a real shit show”

Lexa rolls her eyes.“Just admit you’re actually having fun”

Just the thought of Clarke having fun at one these things is enough to make her cringe, but the realisation that she’s only having fun because she forked out a sizeable sum for company is enough to tip her over the edge. It’s a scary thought, that Clarke is actually enjoying herself at this little shindig; an event that she’s been dreading for months. One that she’d heavily considered skipping the build up to, actively plotted to find a way to only attend the wedding before being prematurely shut down by her mother.

“You weren't lying when you said you were good at your job,” Clarke eventual settles on, the reply a compromise, merging a compliment with a dash realism.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Lexa comments, delighting in the way that Clarke feature distort with surprise before quickly morphing into smugness.

“Careful now,” Clarke teases, “you're in danger of sounding like you actually enjoy spending time with me.”

Lexa rolls her eyes, she’s not about to admit that this is the most fun she’s had with a client since she started her business. She’s not about to admit that _Clarke_ might just be her favourite client so far. “I’m just being honest, Clarke. This only works if we both play our roles and you’re doing a fine job.”

 _“A fine Job,”_ Clarke mocks, laughing at the way Lexa’s brows crease.

Maybe a little bit of fun isn't a bad thing.

____________

 _“The key to any good party is a good hostess, Clarke.”_ Is all her mother offers as she completely abandons them in favour of attending to some new arrivals. It’s not until Clarke registers the unforgiving face of Kathy heading in their direction that she realises her mother may have had an ulterior motive for leaving.

She pulls Lexa closer, wraps an arm around her waist and paints on a smile. She prays to every god she’s ever heard of, prays that it just might be possible to silently will someone away with a passive aggressive smile.

Her prayers aren't answered and the only warning Lexa gets before Kathy is invading their space is a muffled _‘brace yourself.’_

Kathy is what Clarke would define as an _‘obligatory invite.’_ She’s entirely sure what kind of familial obligation she has when it comes to Kathy, the only thing she knows for sure is that Kathy makes it her life’s mission to attend every single Griffin gathering. Maybe the term ‘family friend’ is best suited to Kathy, even if it’s for the sole comfort of Clarke being able to console herself with the fact that they don't share a genetic connection.

“Oh, Clarke! Just the girl I was looking for,” Clarke grits her teeth, she knows exactly where this heading, “I managed to get Jeremy— you know Julie's’ son that I was telling you about last time,” Kathy continues despite Clarke obvious disinterest in the topic, “the banker,” she adds as if Clarke should be all kinds of impressed (she’s far from it). “Anyway, he said he was open to the idea of a date. I’ve got his number if you’d like to call and arrange—”

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met,” Lexa cuts in, “I’m Lexa… Clarke’s girlfriend.” She states firmly, hoping that it’s enough to get Kathy to stop talking about Jeremy or anyone else she thinks would be a good match for Clarke.

The point doesn't seem to click for Kathy, who smiles at Lexa politely before turning her attention back to Clarke, “It’s nice that you were able to bring someone… even if it was only a friend. I’ve heard weddings can be a bitter experience for you single folk.”

Clarke is not one to be regularly rendered speechless, but Kathy assuming that Lexa is her ‘gal pal’ is no small feat. She tucks herself further into Lexa, hopes the added affection might get her point across, “Babe, would you mind getting me another a drink?” Clarke asks gesturing towards her empty glass.

“Sure thing,” Lexa’s words are accompanied by what Clarke assumes is her best adoring smile.

“Oh, you girls seem close. That’s one thing I miss now that I'm that little bit older, you just seem to drift apart from your friends as the years go by.”

Clarke nods, completely dumbfounded, she’s not sure how much clearer she can be.

“Anyway, it’s not right, a pretty thing like you being single. I mean your mom is getting married for the second time and you’re not even close—”

Clarke tunes out the annoying voice the second she hears yet another dig at her martial status. Already regretting her decision to handle this alone, she catches Lexa’s gaze from across the room, making sure to adequately display and _SOS signal_ with her eyes.

Lexa seems to have no trouble in interpreting Clarke’s signal, but they apparently have completely different techniques when it comes to dealing with the overly oblivious and incredible _persistent_ Kathy.

Clarke had been expecting some form of rescue mission, a flimsy excuse which would give her an opportunity to flee. Obviously, she’d less effective in conveying that part of her plan.

When Lexa does make her way back to Clarke, she wastes no time in bringing their lips together. She had intended it to be chaste, a small show of affection, one that would rid them of Kathy’s obnoxious offer of a blind date and rambling of weddings.

_The kiss is anything but chaste._

Clarke is quick to react despite the surprise. It’s the first real kiss that they’ve shared and she doesn't hold back. It’s instinctual, the way that reaches up to cup Lexa’s face as she deepens the kiss.

Clarke is the one who reluctantly breaks the kiss, mindful of the crowded room and the voice in the back of head telling her that she should put an end it while she still has the chance. She pulls back, subtle in the way she tries to regulate her breathing.

She thinks that she should really say something, that she really ought she do something other than blatantly staring at Lexa’s lips.

She’s just doing her job. That’s what Clarke tells herself, repeats it when she thinks she sees Lexa’s eyes dart down towards her own lips.

_Just business, she’s just acting._

_This isn't real_

  
Lexa is first one to speak up and Clarke is eternally grateful that she’s been given a few more seconds to process. “Sorry, I just figured this was the easiest way to get our point across”

Clarke nods in agreement, still firmly in a post-kiss daze, there’s no disputing the effectiveness of that kiss. “Yeah, no… I mean there was certainly nothing friendly about that.” Even though the joke is half-hearted it proves useful in steering into another topic, “Looks like your plan worked, I don’t think she’ll be making an appearance again anytime soon.”

Lexa is spared the necessity of response as Raven comes barrelling in with no care as to what she could be interrupting. Clarke has never been so thankful for her friend’s lack of decorum.

“Looks like you two are really hitting it off then. Way to sell this whole romance thing, I don't think I’ve seen Kathy move so fast.” She says, putting her arms around the pair, “Those sparks almost had me fooled.”

____________

  
Clarke is unapologetic in the way she leaves Lexa to fend for herself, she’s getting paid to spend her time charming these people and Clarke really can’t stomach another conversation about her life plan and what she intends to do with the future.

She’s seen enough to know that Lexa has it covered, that she really wasn't kidding about being good at her job.

And if Clarke’s being entirely honest she starting to blur the lines between Lexa and her purchased package.

So she does what any sane individual would, runs… well, she walks… slowly, she has to be stealth in her escape and breaking into a sprint doesn't exactly scream ‘I’ll be back in a few’

As it turns out she is more than adept at finding a suitable place to hide. Her old bedroom is admittedly not the most inconspicuous of places to stow away in but in defence, she’s well on her way to finishing her third drink and she’d completely forgotten how comfortable her old bed was but, most importantly no one has discovered her yet.

Her heart sinks a little when she hears a quiet knock on her door. So much for peace and quiet.

Clarke readies herself for the intrusion. She sits up on her elbows and discreetly stashes her now empty glass. She prepares herself for some form of scolding for skipping out on the socialising aspect before it had even really started.

“I thought I’d find you in here”

Clarke never felt relief quite like it, her shoulders visibly relax as she slinks back down on her bed, “Raven, thank god.”

“I don't think I’ve ever heard you sound so pleased to see me,” Raven smiles, gently closing the door behind her as she steps into Clarke’s childhood bedroom. It looks exactly the way she’d imagined, untouched, all of Clarke things still fixed into place despite the fact she’d moved out years ago.

“Yeah well, when the choice is between you and anyone else downstairs, you’re a clear winner.”

On another day Raven might be a little bit flattered but as it is she really isn't surprised to hear Clarke admit that she prefers her company over some distant second cousin. “So who are we hiding from exactly? The girlfriend or the overbearing family?”

Raven liked to think of herself as a fairly observant person, has an attentive eye but she’d have to blind to miss the way Lexa and Clarke were interacting downstairs and if she didn't know any better she’d have trouble identifying the very real fact that this was all fake.

Clarke doesn't need a whole lot of time to commit to an answer, she knows exactly what she’s avoiding and she’s pretty sure Raven does as well. “Both?” She replies, leaves a hint of uncertainty in there in the hope that Raven will perhaps call her out for it, tell how stupid she’s being, what’s the point in paying for a fake girlfriend if she’s just going to hide away in her room for the foreseeable future.

Raven furrows her brow at the response, “Are you sure about that?” she asks in an all too knowing manner.

Clarke lets out an audible sigh as she resigns herself to the fact that Raven isn't going to let this one go. “It’s just… is she always like that?”

“Always like what?” Raven asks, marginally confused by Clarke’s questions, from the little bits she’d seen for herself things had been working out fine.

“Is she always that… _convincing?_ ” Clarke’s words are quiet, unsure, as if she’s not quite ready to admit that maybe her family aren't the only ones being fooled by Lexa impeccable performance.

Raven’s face softens immediately, her eyes shimmering with something akin to pity and Clarke really doesn't appreciate it. She doesn't need it. “Clarke…”

It’s a warning, they both know it.

When Clarke doesn't say anything, Raven takes the silence as her chance to offer a little advice. She hopes her words may just prevent her friend some minor heartache when this all comes to an end in two days time. “She’s just doing her job and it’s not your fault she just happens to be good at it but that’s all this is to her… a job. She’s here to earn her money and win over your family, nothing more. She’s usually pretty clear about that.”

“I know all that… I just,” Clarke sighs as she trails off, “I guess I just didn't expect it all to feel so real?”

“Sounds like you’re forgetting that number one rule”

“I’m not in love with her,” Clarke scoffs, because she’s not, this thing she's feeling, it isn't love. Attraction, a small crush with a dash of infatuation, at most. “I’m not,” she repeats when Raven shoots her an unconvinced look, “I barely even know her.”

“Whatever you say, princess. I’m just saying that I didn't get this caught up when I brought her along for my mom’s birthday party last year.”

That seems to be enough to bring Clarke out her Lexa-induced-daze, “Wait. You paid Lexa to be your date?”

Raven laughs a little at the suggestion, “Paid? No, we’re friends, she was doing me a favour since you bailed on me last minute.”

Clarke is weirdly hurt by the thought of being replaced so easily, even is her lack of attendance was technically her fault. “I can’t believe you fake cheated on me.”

Raven groans at Clarke apparent seriousness, “I’m pretty sure that’s not a thing, Clarke.”

“‘Sure feels like it,” Clarke mumbles almost petulantly.

Raven offers her a small, if not slightly sad smile, “Look, what I’m trying to say is just, don't overthink things okay? I don't want you to get hurt.”

“She’s the same with everyone, I know.” The last thing that Clarke wants is Raven feeling some form of irrational guilt for introducing her to Lexa in the first place. “Thanks, Rae”

Raven senses the deflated nature of Clarke’s words and can’t help but feel a small tinge of guilt for shutting down her feeling so abruptly. As much as would like to keep Clarke away from any possible heartbreak, she’s also seen enough to know that Lexa has been somewhat more attentive than she usually claims to be when she is on a job.

“I don’t tag along when she’s working, Clarke and I brought her along to antagonise my family, not charm them. It hardly seems to compare the two. So I guess I only really know the little bits that she’s let slip about certain jobs. So as much as I think you should just see this for what it is —an arrangement— If you think that maybe there’s something more going on, then just ask her.”

“And risk making a complete fool of myself? …Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

“No, you’re completely right, wallowing in your room like some lovesick teenager is a much better plan of action.”

“I’m not wallowing,” Clarke protests, fixing her friend with a steely gaze, “I’m avoiding, there’s a difference.”

Raven doesn't offer much of a response, knows it would be fairly infective to do so. She knows Clarke, perhaps better than Clarke herself. She has first-hand knowledge of just how stubborn Clarke can be and she has absolutely no desire to spend the rest of the evening talking some much-needed sense into her friend.

____________

 

Lexa enters quietly enough, considerate even as if she doesn't really want to disturb Clarke. Her steps are soft and discreet, the creak makes as she goes close it shut, considerably less so. “Raven said this was where you were hiding out.” She says in lieu of a greeting.

_Typical_

Clarke really ought to have considered the fact that Raven had a sense of loyalty to both of her friends and she really shouldn't have assumed that she would just win out. Still, it doesn't stop the creeping thought of betrayal.

Clarke shrugs, finally admitting defeat in her battle with avoidance, “Yeah, well… Raven’s a snitch.”

“She didn't give the intel up easily,” Lexa laughs, “I can assure you besides you only have so many rooms and I was bound to find you eventually.”

Clarke hates the way she finds herself agreeing, no plausible agreements to be had. “I suppose that’s fair,” she concedes, “what can I do for you?”

Lexa smiles at the way Clarke dramatically gestures for her to take a seat on a chair that looks a little too unsteady for her comfort. Against her better judgement, Lexa hovers over it precariously. “I can’t be concerned about my girlfriend’s whereabouts?”

Clarke nods, the realisation of what her disappearance must look like to all the remaining guests finally dawning on her, “Right, I guess I kind of left you stranded down there, huh?”

Lexa doesn't seem overly displeased with having to fend for herself but then again Clarke is having a bit of trouble deciphering Lexa’s emotion in general.

“Kind of,” Lexa shrugs one shoulder, “I know these things can be a bit much but it’s really hard to sell the idea of us being this inseparable besotted couple if you’re avoiding me.”

“I wasn't avoiding you.” Clarke’s protests fall on deaf ears as Lexa merely raises a brow in defiance

“You’re a really bad liar, Clarke,” Lexa says it as if she couldn't imagine a trait that is less desirable, as if Clarke should feel at least an ounce of shame for failing to expertly carry off a lie the way that Lexa does.

“I guess it’s easy to judge when it’s _your day job_ ,” Clarke fires back, feisty in her approach.

If Lexa’s offended by the retort she doesn't show it. Her expression as passive as ever

“Your mom’s been asking after you,” is all Lexa says. A swift change of subject that reminds Clarke of the whole reason she’s even here to begin with. “Sounded kind of private, I figured you want to deal with that yourself,” Lexa adds.

Clarke feels the change, the light air replaced with this abnormal sense of obligation. Either way, she knows that her room can no longer provide refuge from her family. She stands, taking the time to smooth out the creases in her dress, does her utmost to look presentable.

Clarke thinks about leaving without a word, without a so much as glance at her temporary girlfriend. In the end, her need for an amicable atmosphere gets the better of her, she knows the sudden frostiness is her doing and it’s her best interest to smooth things over. “You can join me if you want, I know how important it is for us to have this united front and I’m sorry I bailed on you earlier. I guess I just got a bit overwhelmed… I wasn't expecting you to be so committed to this… _relationship,_ ” Clarke gestures awkwardly between them, a subtle blush forming on her cheeks as she sheepishly admits that she may have got a little swept up in the act. “I just needed a breather, a chance to put things back into perspective.”

Lexa softens slightly but she’s quick to dismiss the idea of joining Clarke, she hadn't been lying when she’d said it sounded like a private matter. “I think it’s probably best you go on your own. I doubt there are many people left downstairs by now and your mom seemed set on the idea of having a moment alone with you… What kind of girlfriend would I be if I went against your mother’s wishes?”

The joke doesn't fall flat, well not exactly. Clarke laughs, it’s not a full-blown laugh but it’s there; small, short and polite.

____________

  
Clarke is beyond pleased to see the crowd has thinned out, she’s not entirely sure she would have survived another run in with ‘close family friend’ Kathy

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Clarke stops dead in her tracks, the unmistakeable sound of her mother filtering through the empty hallway. She pushes down the urge to make some flippant comment about how she mustn’t have looked to hard considering she’d been hiding in the most unimaginative place possible.

“Mom. Lexa said you wanted to talk. Is everything okay?”

“Ah, so she did manage to track you down then.”

Clarke nods, not quite sure what she should offering in response. She has no idea how much time her mother has spent alone with Lexa during her absence but there’s absolutely no doubt in her mind that she was definitely a topic of conversation at some point.

There’s a split second where Clarke worries that perhaps Lexa wasn't convincing enough. That maybe her mother has cottoned on to their little arrangement and Clarke’s about to feel the wrath of her mother’s disapproval but instead her mother smiles, a wide, bright smile.

It’s the kind of smile you'd expect to see from someone on the eve of their wedding. Clarke lets the rising panic of being discovered fizzle out, her faith in Lexa restored.

“You look happy,” Clarke comments, she’d spent so much time flitting between family members and Lexa that she’d pushed thoughts of her mother to the back of her mind and for a moment Clarke feels guilty for letting the actual wedding taking a backseat to her non-existent relationship drama. “Are you nervous for tomorrow?” Clarke asks, slightly curious as to why Abby had wanted to see her in the first place.

Abby smile turns bashful, “I feel happy… nervous? I’m not sure about that one, maybe it will hit me tomorrow when I’m actually walking down the aisle and everyone’s watching me. You know I thought this would be easier the second time around.”

Clarke offers a sad smile, they don't talk about her father often. Clarke prefers it that way, even if the divorce had been amicable, she doesn't want her memories of her father to be tainted by someone else’s. “I don't think these things are supposed to get any easier.”

“No. I suppose not.”

There’s a moment of silence where the just smile at each other, enjoy the rare of a moment of peace in a chaotic weekend. Clarke savours the seconds, knows she won’t have the luxury of too many moments like this.

Abby is the one to break the silence, shrugging off her smile and facing Clarke with a faux serious gaze, “Anyway, enough about me… I actually wanted to talk about you.”

“Me? It’s _your_ big day tomorrow, I’m pretty sure we should be talking about.”

“Should have thought about that before you decided to show up her with a girlfriend that I’ve heard nothing about. You’re not getting away that easy, even if I’m slightly preoccupied with a wedding and more guests than I can count.”

Clarke really shouldn't be surprised that her mother is curious, she’s always curious. “You have met her now. I don't know what more you want to know. I’m sure she’s given you more than enough details.”

Abby doesn't deny that fact that Lexa had been all too happy to divulge about her relationship with Clarke. “Yes, but I want to hear it from you.”

And oh god, this is so much worse than being found out.

“What do you want to know?”

“I’ll admit I was dubious at first,” Abby replies, completely ignoring Clarke’s initial question, “I know how much you detest weddings, _even if I’m the one getting married_ and I thought that maybe you’d just brought along some random girl you barely knew as a distractions of sorts, a social buffer to help get you through the weekend.”

Clarke wasn't aware that her intentions were so transparent, she thought she’d successfully cloaked her dislike during previous events, from her mother at least. “But?” Clarke asks, hopeful that there is, in fact, a but at some point.

“But,” Abby adds, placing her hand over Clarke's in a comforting motion, “she’s different.”

Clarke lets out a little laugh at the irony of it all. If only her mother knew. “She’s different alright.”

If Abby notices the slight change in inflection she doesn't mention it. “It’s nice you finally see you with someone who’s deserving for a change.” Abby doesn't let Clarke’s roll of the eyes deter her from her next words, “She’s a good one, Clarke. I’m never wrong about these things. Trust me, I’m your mother.”

 _She is wrong, frequently in fact, and in this particular moment, she’s never been more wrong._ Clarke swallows the word that threatens to slip out, the overwhelming urge to tell her mother she has this one wrong on so many levels. “Okay, mom, slow down. We’ve only been seeing each other for three months, it’s nothing too serious.”

Her attempts to quell her mother’s exceptions for her fictitious relationship are neither here nor there as Abby shrugs them off. “It’s just nice to see you happy.”

Clarke thinks it’s probably best to leave it at that, she knows there would be absolutely no use in arguing at this stage, her mother has her mind made up and apparently Lexa is a keeper.

It this kind of reaction that Clarke had been expecting. Her mother’s approval pretty much guaranteed the second she’d handed over that money. Still, it only serves to makes thinks more difficult when their inevitable break-up happens. She makes a mental note to ask Lexa if she has any ideas for their break-up.

____________

  
By the time Clarke makes her way up to her old room, she’s exhausted. It’s been a long day of socialising even if she did manage to successfully skip out on a couple of hours of it.

One look at the clock tells her that she’s not even close to getting the solid eight hours of uninterrupted sleep that she craves.

The next thing that her eyes land on is Lexa. Lexa, who is languidly prompted against the headboard, book in hand. Lexa who is dressed in a skimpy pair of sleep shorts and a vest top. Lexa who is totally lying on Clarke’s side of the bed.

It doesn't take Lexa long to spot Clarke, eyes drifting from the page to focus on her. “Everything go okay with your mom?”

The sincerity of the question catches Clarke a little off guard, she had been expecting a frosty reception, something similar to when she had left. “Oh, it went fine, you know, the usually sappy night before the wedding kind of thing.”

“Can’t say I’m familiar with that particular conversation,” Lexa replies, but she doesn't push for any further details, figures Clarke will share them with her if she wants.

Clarke doesn't say anything more, busy herself with getting changed into something more comfortable. She doesn't put much thought into when she slips out of her dress, it’s only when she turns to see Lexa staring with wide eyes that she remember she’s not alone.

Clarke's cheeks flush and for a second she swears she sees Lexa’s turn a similar shade before she quickly turns away.

“Sorry,” Lexa all but stammers, instinctively recoiling.

It’s the first time that Clarke has seen her look so frazzled and she’d be lying is she said she wasn't enjoying the slight change in their fortunes.

‘It’s okay, I forgot you were here, my fault really.”

Lexa doesn't want dwell on the incident any further. She nods, not quite trusting her ability to form tangible words at this point. She gestures towards the lamp on her side on the room, a silent question, waiting for the go-ahead.

Clarke nods in confirmation, watching as half the room darkens. Thinks about anything but Lexa as she slips into her pyjamas.

 _‘Just two more days_ ’ she repeats it like a mantra. Two more days, that’s it just two days and this will all by over, they’ll go back to being strangers, mere acquaintances and Clarke can go back to being blissfully single.

_Two more days_

Clarke wordlessly tucks herself into the other side of the bed, holds back any complaints she has about this not being her preferred side. She sneaks a glance at Lexa, her book is long gone and her back is turned. Clarke likes to imagine that there’s still a faint shade of red cover her cheeks.

It’s the last thing she thinks about as the sleep finally takes over.


	4. Chapter 4

Clarke expects to wake up feeling slightly refreshed, reenergized and ready for the day ahead. Excited, even. She expects to wake with the warm realisation the today is her mother’s wedding day and most importantly, her weekend of socialising with her family is almost at an end.

That’s far from what she gets.

Instead, Clarke is pulled from her sleep by insistent beeping of her phone and an uncomfortable weight resting on her right arm. She shreds the last remnants of her dream and blinks herself awake. She surveys her surroundings, a desperate attempt to locate the source of the unwelcoming noise, she’s not entirely sure what time it is but she knows she could have done with at least an extra hour of sleep.

“It’s _your_ phone.”

That almost inaudible mumble is practically dripping with resentment and it’s more than enough to draw Clarke’s attention from her search and over to her right-hand side. To _Lexa_

_And Oh Christ, she’d forgotten about that particular problem._

Clarke rolls onto her side, props herself up one elbow to appraise the body sleeping next to her

Unsurprisingly, Lexa goddess-like status doesn't dwindle despite the early hour and rude awaking, she still looks as striking as the day when Clarke had strolled into the coffee shop a whopping five minutes late.

Clarke hates the way that her thoughts drift to a different time, to a different place, to a situation where waking up next to Lexa is followed by a lazy good morning kiss and a home cooked breakfast. Most of all, she hates the way that her heart flutters at the thought of more moments like this one.

Thankfully, Clarke’s phone sounds off once more, pulling her from her reverie. She scrambles to retrieve it, groaning at the way her limbs object toeing put to work at this god-awful time in the morning.

Her groans of protests amplify when she finally manages to scoop her phone from the floor (an obvious casualty to the tossing and turning of the night). The source of early morning torture is none other than Raven, because, well of course it is.

Clarke’s anger wavers slightly when she actually digests the string of texts, all of which are concerned with Clarke’s wellbeing and suspiciously curious about the outcome of her chat with Lexa. Not wanting Raven to worry too much, Clarke sends of offer quick reply telling her friend that everything is good and that her talk with Lexa helped clear the air.

 _She adds a smiley face for good measure and prays that her lie is more convincing in text form_.

She lets out a deep breath as she falls back into the mattress, past caring if her moment disturbs Lexa. She contemplates the plausibility of drifting back into to a dreamless sleep for at least another hour but ultimately decides against it. She wasn't kidding about her preference for sleeping on the other side of the bed and while she hadn't encounter too much trouble sleeping last night, this morning is a completely different story.

Her huffs of frustration don't go unnoticed.

“Does this mean that we both have to get up?” Lexa grumbles and Clarke knows that her desired answer is a no.

If Clarke was in a more hospitable mood, that's probably what she would have offered, she would have been kind enough to let Lexa get a little more rest, especially considering how taxing today is going to be for the both them.

As it is, Clarke’s mood is far from hospitable, and even if her mood is technically no fault of Lexa’s, she’s not about to suffer alone. “Probably,” she replies, sticking with her misery loves company motto. “We have time for breakfast before all the fun starts.”

Breakfast seems like a shoddy attempt at a peace offering but it’s all Clarke has.

Lexa hums as if the prospect of food might just be enough to persuade her to leave to soft comfort of slept-in sheets, “What kind of breakfast are we talking about?” 

“Anything you want,” Clarke shrugs, not entirely sure what the right answer is or if there’s even a right answer at all. They certainly hadn't covered breakfast preferences in the list of things they should learn about each other.

Clarke response seems to be enough to get Lexa moving at least and Clarke has to avert her eyes when Lexa stands to stretch.

“Okay but you’re making it,” is the only thing Lexa offers before she slips into the bathroom. 

 

____________

 

Breakfast is nicer than Clarke would like to admit. The lingering tension from yesterday is nowhere to be seen and they’re downstairs early enough to avoid the hustle and bustle of the morning.

Surprisingly, Lexa’s go-to breakfast is just some toast. (Although, Clarke thinks it probably has more to do with Lexa’s faith in her cooking skills than an actual love of toast itself.)

There are a few moments when Clarke has to catch herself, erase the sight of Lexa sending her shy glances over the rim of her half-empty cup of coffee.

“You know, I’ve been thinking that maybe we should come up with a break-up story,” Clarke says, eyes remaining fixed on her last bit of toast.

Lexa's nose scrunches in confusion, it’s not something she usually concerned herself with. She’s never really bothered to consider what excuse her clients use about her inability to attend another event. She doesn't really care what reason they come up with on their own, she’s more than content to be the bad guy in the minds of people that she’s never going to see again. “You want me to put together a break-up cover story as well?” She asks, decidedly unsure as to why Clarke would need her help with a simple _‘yeah, we’re not together anymore’_  

Clarke shrugs, finally lifting her eyes to meet Lexa’s, “I don't know if you’ve noticed but you’ve proved to be a hit with my family and-”

“I’ve noticed,” Lexa interrupts and Clarke really wishes she had some kind of retort to wipe the smug look off her face.

“Yeah,” Clarke rolls her eyes, biting back the need to shut down Lexa’s confidence, “So, I was thinking that I’m going to need something big, you know, for everyone to be okay with our break up. I mean I’m pretty sure that my mother is on the verge of planning _our_ wedding and, I just… You’re better at this stuff than I am and I really don't need people thinking that our break up is somehow my fault.”

Lexa’s face softens a little, her delighted smirk morphing into a sweet smile of understanding, “I guess I could come up with something that could work for the both of us if you want me to”

“I do,” Clarke replies, blushing at the speed in which it takes her to respond, “want you to, I mean, I don't want them to hate you either if you can manage that.” She shrugs, “I have to admit that it’s been kind of nice having them actually approve of someone that I’m dating for a change.”

“Ah, so you _do_ like having me around then,” Lexa teases, thoroughly enjoying the way that Clarke’s face twists at her gloating.

“Maybe you’re not the worst fake date ever,” Clarke concedes, eager to avoid any unnecessary teasing, especially when the facts are so plain to see. 

The small admission draws a shy smile from Lexa and there’s a fleeting moment where Clarke thinks that maybe she should let Lexa know just _how_ much she likes having her around.

“I’ll think of something,” Lexa promises.

The words are enough to stop Clarke from entertaining the idea of spilling how she feels. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“I hear that a lot.” Lexa’s smirk is once again proudly on display, “Though, I have to admit that it’s oddly more satisfying coming from you.”

 

____________

 

“I guess we should probably make a start,” Clarke says pointed to the clock stationed on the wall, “I don't know how long you take to get ready but I prefer it when I'm in a rush, especially since I’m going to be immortalised in the photos.”

Lexa nods in confirmation, “That makes sense. You know, I’ve never really thought about the photo thing, I wonder how many people have the odd snapshot with me lurking in the corner and can’t quite remember why I was there in the first place.”

“Something tells me that you’re not easily forgotten,” Clarke says without really thinking, surprise by how genuine she sounds.

If Lexa’s silence is anything to go by, she’s not the only one.

“So, what about you?” 

It’s an awkward transition but Clarke latches onto it, grateful she’s been spared from having to explain her earlier comment. “What about me?”

“I mean, it’s your mother’s wedding, how are you feeling?”

“I guess I’m just confused as to why everyone is suddenly concerned with how I feel. I can hardly dictate who my mother dates and even if I could, Marcus seems like a nice enough guy. I only really care she’s happy and she is, so.” Clarke answers honestly, she wouldn't have agreed to stand by her mother’s side if she’d disapproved of Marcus.

Lexa nods along, “I’ll be sure to be nice to him when we meet.”

“Like I need you gaining anyone else’s approval. Marcus is incredibly easy to win over, you should have trouble,” Clarke scoffs.

 

____________

 

They’d parted ways, agreeing that it made more sense to get ready separately and make use of any additional space available.

As much as Clarke had enjoyed spending the morning with Lexa, a little break to get ready seemed like a sensible idea. A welcome breather to keep her mind in check, the last thing she needs is to slip into yesterday’s thoughts.

She uses her time alone to recite her speech. She’s never been a fan of public speaking, nerves often getting the better of her but her mother had asked and Clarke couldn't quite find the words to turn her down (the irony of that was not lost on her).

It’s a speech that she’s proud of, she’d spent a fair amount of time putting it together, carefully crafting each sentence so that it adequately portrayed the message that she was going for. Despite how insistent she was about her mother not needing her approval to marry, she’s not naive. She knows just how much it means to her mom that she’s here today.

The fact that she’s giving a speech about it is just an added bonus.

“Is that your speech? It sounds lovely, very heartfelt.”

Clarke jumps at the intrusion, hand flying to her chest in a fruitless attempt to calm her rapid heartbeat, “Jeez, Lexa would it kill you to knock.”

“Sorry,” Lexa laughs out an apology and the sound of unbridled joy causes Clarke’s residual anger to dissipate, “I guess I was just drawn in by your voice.”

“Is that what you really think,” Clarke asks, last might doubt creeping in, “You’re actually the first person that has heard it, I’ve been keeping it to myself.”

Lexa crosses the room in a few short strides, coming to a stop when she’s face-to-face with Clarke, “Clarke, I think Abby is going to love it, there won’t be a dry eye in the house.”

Lexa’s words are encouraging, honest and Clarke finds herself believing in them, “You think?”

Lexa tilts her head and places a hand on Clarke’s cheek, guiding Clarke’s eyes to her own, hoping the contact will help in its delivery, “I know.” 

Clarke beams, releasing the well-used sheet of paper from her tight grip for the first time in what seems like hours. By this point, she has every syllable ingrained in her memory. The ratty piece of paper serving as an object to focus her nerves on more than a mechanism to prompt her memory.

The shift in attention gives her a chance to really look at Lexa since she’d entered the room and the sight of Lexa fully dressed in a fitted tux and one delicate braid precariously hanging over her shoulder, makes her more nervous than any speech possible could.

Lexa uses all her strength to keep the chuckle in place. She had expected some kind of reaction but seeing Clarke speechless and her jaw slack was definitely more than she’d bargained for. “What do you think?” She asks innocently, using Clarke’s flustered stated to her full advantage

Clarke blushes at the realisation that she’s been we'll and truly caught. 

Still, she doesn't take her eyes away from Lexa, it’s the kind of look that deserves to be appreciated, after all. 

“I.. um, you, uh. You look great.” Clarke’s cheeks begin to redden as she stutters and she has to use all her strength to resist the urge to face palm at just how smooth she isn’t. In her defence, she’s not entirely sure she could even string together a selection of words that do Lexa enough justice.

Lexa can’t help it this time, the laugh escapes, full and unforgiving. 

“Relax, I’m your girlfriend, remember, you're supposed to find me attractive. In fact, I’d be offended if you didn't find me attractive, concerned even. I’m hot,” Lexa uses her hands to gesture to herself and her attire, making sure to watch the way that Clarke’s eyes follow her direction

Clarke really wants to make some comment about vanity and the boundary between confidence and cockiness but that would mean refuting Lexa’s overall conclusion and well for lack of a better word, she is undoubtedly hot.

She settles for a simple roll of the eyes and reluctantly averts her eyes from Lexa’s form. “Zip me up?” Clarke asks, turning around before she actually gets an answer.

Lexa spends a split second longer necessary with her hands rested on Clarke's hips, takes a deep breath as she refrains from running her fingers down the open expanse of Clarke’s dress.

Clarke swears she feels Lexa’s fingers tremble as she dutifully pulls the zipper up.


	5. Chapter 5

Despite the number of guests, the wedding itself is a rather quiet affair.  

Clarke offers her mother some last minute words of comfort and is surprisingly successful in her attempt to stop her mom fidgeting as she prepares to walk down the aisle for the second time in her life.

“Mom, you’ve done this before, you’re practically a pro,” Clarke says, sighing in relief when she notices the timid smile on her mother’s face. She turns to face her mother, serious this time and places a comforting hand on her shoulder. It’s a weird change of roles, Clarke can't help but think that it’s strange to be the one offering the unwavering support as opposed to being on the receiving end of it. “It’s just one foot in front of the other, before you know it, it’ll be over, and I have it on good authority that there’s a dashing man waiting for you at the end,” Clarke adds with a genuine smile plastered on her face as she nods back towards the aisle, where she knows Marcus is standing.

Abby nods, her face a mixture of steely determination and a dopey grin as she sets her eyes on the end of the aisle, “Thank you, sweetheart.”

It’s the gentle nature of the whispered words, the ease at which the slip out that lets Clarke know that she’s done her job, mission accomplished as the doting supporting daughter. 

She gives her mother one last appraisal and brings into a quick hug, “You look beautiful, mom,” she whispers, because even if she’s said it five times already, it still doesn't capture just how radiant her mother looks.

“I’ll see you out there,” Clarke says, squeezing her mother’s shoulder once more before she leaves to take her place in the front row. 

 

____________

 

The ceremony is relatively calm, the only real cause for concern happening when Kathy has the outrageously bright idea to let out an ill-timed clearing of the throat just as the priest asks the crowd if there are any objections.

There’s a small part of Clarke that thinks Kathy ill-timed interruption, is actually a strategic move to garner some attention. She’s seen enough to know that Kathy likes to be at the centre of just about everything, much everyone’s dismay. 

Clarke has a feeling that this just might be the last invite that Kathy receives.

_Thank god._

Abby smiles as she walks hand in hand down the aisle, with her new husband and Clarke is utterly powerless to stop the way she mirrors her mother’s expression.

She’s honestly can’t remember the last time she’d seen her mother smile quite so brightly and that level of joy is kind of infectious.

They share a knowing look as she continues to stride down the aisle and before Clarke even knows what she’s doing, her hand is searching for Lexa’s and she weaves their fingers together.

“I think this is the nicest wedding I’ve ever been too,” Lexa admits in a whisper, completely unperturbed by Clarke minimal show of affection.

Clarke’s smile widens at the hushed sincerity, turning to face Lexa once her mother is no longer in view. “This is actually the only wedding I’ve been to but I have to admit that it hasn't been half as bad as I thought it would be.” Clarke keeps her gaze glued to Lexa and offers a small squeeze of their joined hands, a subtle gesture to let Lexa know that she is partially responsible for the wedding’s overall enjoyment. 

She might actually say the words _‘thank you’_ but the small twitch of Lexa’s lips and slight dipping of her head is the only kind of confirmation that Clarke needs to know that Lexa has heard her loud and clear.

“You should be carefully what you wish for,” Lexa stage whispers, eyes darting in each direction before returning to look at Clarke with a serious expression.

Clarke returns the look, slightly concerned that she may have overstepped some boundary that she was entirely unaware of. 

Lexa’s serious face cracks at the sheer worry evident in Clarke’s feature, a small laugh escaping as she tugs on Clarke’s hand and leads out of the church.“We haven't even made it through the reception yet and from my experience, that’s where the fun really starts.”

“Oh I have no doubts about that,” Clarke laughs, “I’m more than prepared for drunk relatives and shitty music, I just hope you are.”

“You should know by now, Clarke, I’m always prepared.”

Clarke can’t really argue with that.

 

____________

 

To say, Clarke wasn't looking forward to even more socialising and the chore of mingling with forgotten family members would be an understatement.

Everyone in attendance is decisively interested in every intricate detail of her life, namely Lexa. She’d done well to avoid the brunt of the onslaught the other day, but this time round there was no escape route. 

“I think I could use a drink,” Clarke says, wincing when she catches sight of Kathy in the corner of her eye, “something strong.”

Lexa shakes her head but doesn't offer up any protests as Clarke slinks off towards the bar, she could use a drink herself. 

The second alone gives Lexa a chance to reflect, she looks around the room hoping that her posture is enough to warn people off approaching. Fielding personal questions is pretty much what she’s being paid to do, but even she has to admit she’s never had quite so many to deal with before. In her previous jobs, the overall interest of her relationship seemed to die down after she’d spilt the big talking points, gushed about her date a little.

Clarke’s family were nothing like that.

Nothing seemed to quite enough and quite frankly Lexa had pretty much exhausted her usual go-to stories, there’s only so many times she can repeat the same story of her initial encounter with Clarke without spiking some sort of demand for something different.

Lexa knows that’s not the only thing about this job that feels different.

She also fully understands Clarke’s reasoning for not wanting to attend alone.

“You look like you’re thinking too hard.” Raven jumps in, not caring if she’s disturbing some form of inner conflict.

Lexa struggles to revert her face back it’s naturally passive state, “Yeah, well you look like you’ve been crying,” she fires back, a teasing jab accompanying her teasing words.

Raven subconsciously wipes at her eyes before shrugging it off entirely, “It was an emotional ceremony,” she defends, “don’t think I didn't see Clarke hand you a tissue right at the end.”

“Hazard of the job,” Lexa lies, ignoring the face that Raven pulls in response, “Anyway, if you thought that ceremony was emotional, just wait until you hear Clarke’s speech, it’s a real tear-jerker” 

“She let you hear her speech?” Raven asks, visibly affronted

“This morning,” Lexa nods in affirmation, “well, technically, I overheard her nervously reciting it but still.”

“I can’t believe you've heard the speech before me, I’ve been begging her to share it with me for a month and then you just swan in with that _face_ and that _charm_ and bam,” Raven complains with a pout.

The child-like offence is enough to draw a chuckle out of Lexa, a sulking Raven really is a sight to behold and she’s not sure she’ll get another chance to really appreciate it. “Relax, you’ll hear it soon enough, she seemed pretty anxious about sharing it, so go easy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Raven brushes it off, “you know for someone who supposedly likes to maintain this detached and aloof, you sure do seem to care about Clarke.”

Lexa raises an eyebrow at the implications of Raven’s statement, “and?” she prompts

“Nothing,” Raven replies with an innocent smile, “I'm just not used to seeing you care.” Raven takes in the little frown of Lexa’s face, speaking up when she receives no witty jab in response. “Just be careful, yeah? Clarke is my friend too.”

Lexa is robbed of the chance to question Raven further as Clarke chose that exact moment to return, extending her arm to offer Lexa a drink, “As requested,” she says, eyes darting between Lexa and Raven, a futile attempt to get a sense of what is going on, “are you guys okay?”

“Of course, why wouldn't we be,” Raven says first, her eyes daring Clarke to ask a follow-up question. 

Clarke keeps her eyes glued to Raven, her nose scrunches in confusion at Raven’s unusual behaviour. She thinks maybe she should probe a little deeper, that maybe there’s something that she ought to know but ultimately she  decides to let it slide, figures that maybe it’s just a private moment between friends that she has no business digging into and she knows that if it were anything of importance that Raven would tell her anyway.

“So, Lexa was just telling me about this amazing speech of yours, which is strange because I distinctly remember you saying that no soul would hear it before the wedding.”

Clarke shoots Lexa a dismayed look, one that she hopes accurately conveys _‘why would you do this to me’_  

 

____________

 

“You two really do make a cute couple.”

Clarke steps a little bit closer to Lexa and smiles at the man, who's name she’s already forgotten. “Thank you,” she says. It’s an automatic response, one she’s growing tired of. She’s lost count of the number of times she’s been congratulated on them ‘making a cute couple.’ The focus of them as a couple is becoming exhausting for Clarke, she knows that if she’d just braved this wedding alone she’d be happily sipping away at the bar on her own. That the interest in her wouldn't be nearly as sturdy if she were alone.

There’s something about sitting alone at the bar, nursing a drink that steers people in another direction. If Clarke had to guess, she’d suppose that it doesn't exactly scream that she’s a great conversationist, that her rapid drinking and lone stance gives the impression that she doesn't want to be bothered.  

It’s something that she likes to think she’s managed to perfect over the years, that stone cold expression that guarantees her spare seat to put her bag on whenever she gets the bus.

Unfortunately, it’s infinitely more difficult to pull off the ‘stay away’ assault, when she’s standing next to the walking home beacon that is Lexa. Somehow she just manages to draw people towards her, smiles and all. _It’s exhausting._

After this weekend, she has some new found respect for Lexa’s craft.

That respect increases tenfold when she watches Lexa effortlessly launch into the story on their first date. A first date that never took place. Clarke listens intently as she goes through the whirlwind of their supposed first date. It’s all new for Clarke, they certainly hadn't discussed Clarke’s ideal first date, which just happens to be what Lexa is describing. She does her best to keep the surprise from showing but it’s a gruelling task, one she’s sure she’s equipped for.

She’s even less equipped for how much she wishes she’d experienced the exact date that Lexa is describing. She spares no details, the outline so exact that Clarke’s imagination is running wild, a fully fledged animation playing on a loop.

 _She wonders how something can be too much and not enough at the same time_.

“You’re full of surprises,” Clarke says after she successfully masterminds an escape from the crowd, finding sanctuary in the corner with Lexa by her side. Lexa gives her a quizzical look in response and Clarke returns with an exaggerated rolling of the eyes, “The first date story, did you come up with that on the spot?”

Clarke braces herself for the nod, for the shattering confirmation that Lexa has a backlog of ‘firsts’ to fall back on. Countless stories that she shuffles for other clients, scripted and rehearsed. The thought hurts more than Clarke thinks it should.

The confirmation never comes and Clarke looks up to find Lexa’s regarding her with an earnest expression and a sheepish small, “Things tend to be more believable when I can actually provide some sort of suitable answers to the questions that I’m asked,” Lexa trails off as she realises that that particular answer is not to Clarke’s liking, the barely-there frown is almost too much for Lexa to bear, “but,” she adds quickly, “I have to admit that was completely spontaneous, I just imagined the kind of first date I thought we’d have gone on went from there, was it too much? I know we probably should have worked something out prior, but with the time contrasts.” Lexa shrugs, hoping that she hasn't damaged her rapport with Clarke.

Clarke not entirely sure how to respond, she wants to ask… so many things. She wants to know if the entirety of the date and her fondness of every aspect is nothing more than mere coincidence or the product of some in-depth research and a bit of unsolicited help from Raven. “No, it was good. Realistic.” Clarke swallows the sarcastic laugh that threatens to follow, “I guess you can add spontaneous romantic dates to your list of expertise.”

“I’m hardly an expert, Clarke.”

“You obviously missed the way that everyone was hanging on your every word.”

Lexa shrugs, she hadn't really given anyone else much notice, her attention was firmly focused on Clarke, intently observing her reaction, praying that she wasn't completely off base with her assumptions. “Yeah, I guess I must have missed that part.”

“You made it look easy,” Clarke reaffirms, confused by Lexa’s unenthusiastic approach, from what Clarke has witnessed she’s never been shy about taking credit for a job well done.

“ _You_ make it easy.”

 

____________

 

 

Relief washes over Clarke the second her speech is over, the nerves had dampened as she got into the full swing of things but there’s no denying the fact, that she’s more than happy the ordeal is out of the way. She’s spent far too much time stressing over the structure and delivery, that the last syllable sounds more like freedom than anything else.

She looks out into the crowd for the first time since standing to give her speech and is surprised to her mother crying. She knows they're happy tears, but they’re still unexpected. She smiles and nods, a silent question seeking approval. Her mother returns the smile, despite her watery eyes.

The next face she lands on is Lexa. A ver smug looking Lexa, who is far from subtle when she mouths the words ‘I told you so.’ 

Raven gives her nod of approval and the accompanying over enthusiastic thumbs up is the only sign Clarke needs to say to know that Raven is more than a little tipsy. 

 

____________

 

“Care to dance?”

Clarke thinks about turning the offer down, shaking her head and returning to her drink with nothing more than _‘I don't do dancing’._ But she can practically feel the weight of the room’s stares as everyone waits for her to take Lexa’s outstretched hand and then, there’s also the devious look she’s receiving from Lexa.

Her mouth shaped like a challenge and her eyes crinkling with mischief.

And, Clarke really doesn't like the thought of Lexa winning, even if she’s not entirely sure what kind of game they’re playing.

She looks past Lexa, the makeshift dance floor is sparse, there is more than enough room for her to move, free from the worry of bumping into some relation of the groom. She stands, a determined look in her eyes as she takes Lexa’s hand, “I guess someone’s got to show you how it’s done.”

Lexa scoffs but does nothing to stop herself from being pulled to the dance floor. Clarke is carefree, energetic and has absolutely no qualms in pushing herself up against Lexa as she moves her hips in tune with the music. 

A smirk spreads across Clarke’s face when she feels Lexa’s hands rest on her waist, and an unsteady exhale hit the side of her next. This is exactly the kind of reaction she’d been expecting but that the inevitability of all doesn't stop the swell of pride she feels at ridding Lexa of the smug expression.

Clarke toys with her date for the entire song, relishing the way that Lexa seems to lose some of her composure, delighting in the fact that, for once she isn't the one with flushed cheeks and shuddering breaths. As the song nears to an end, she pushes further back into Lexa. She savours one last moment.

Lexa is completely unguarded and it’s Clarke doing. 

As the music fades, Clarke’s smirk doesn’t.

“You okay?” Clarke teases as she turns, looping her arms around Lexa’s neck and leaning in close, “You're looking a little red.”

Lexa nods immediately, doing her best to cool her cheeks. She’s not used to feeling this flustered. Although, in her defence, she’s not used to Clarke.

Another round of merciless teasing is cut off by the start of the next song.

It’s a [slow song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nHi3eOqUt_k). _Of course, it is._

 

_Give me something real, something to hold on_

_Give me something you’ve got to make us strong_

_I’ll be waiting, I’ll be waiting to come home_

_I’ll be saving, I’ll be saving what we own_

 

The soft sound of the music filtering through is enough to pull Lexa back to the present, her blush replaced with a sweet smile when she recognises the small panic in Clarke’s eyes. She knows the table have been turned and she’s always been fond of a little retribution, “What’s wrong, Clarke, do your talents not extend to slow dancing?”

Clarke shakes her head in dismissal, she takes a short step back, retreats calmly, her hands reluctantly abandoning their post, “I think I’ll sit this one out.” She’d really like to avoid the torture that is a slow dance with Lexa.

A hand—soft and all too inviting— latches onto to her before she gets the chance to bolt and before she knows it she’s being pulled back towards Lexa. “Don’t worry your toes will be safe with me,” Lexa reassures, determined to not let Clarke slip away.

Clarke can’t help it, she laughs. Lexa’s easy smile is contagious, “They better be. The money that I’m paying you, I’m expecting you to move like you’re the next Fred Astaire.”

 

_Look in your eyes for a little while_

_Let me read your mind, if you read mine_

_Cause I keep falling, I’m still falling for your love_

_I keep falling, falling into your world_

 

Lexa doesn't say anything, just pulls Clarke closer as she leads. Clarke doesn't dwell on the other guests and their prying eyes. In this moment it’s just them, she’s dancing with her girlfriend and she’s going to enjoy it. For how ever long it lasts. 

 

_With every love, every kiss. Every time we touch lips_

_My love always, every time till we miss_

_Every love, every cry. Every time till we die_

_Every love, every look. In your bright blue eyes_

 

The most annoying thing for Clarke is that she actually has to admit that Lexa has some talent, but then again, she’s yet to find anything that Lexa hadn't been able to do. It stands to reason, that if the brunette could charm her way through the weekend, she should be more than capable of holding Clarke close as they move around the dance floor.

 

_It’s something we can’t say_

_It’s just the way we feel_

_We’ll be holding in secrets_

_Till they reveal_

 

It’s at this point, Clarke gives in. There is no resisting the way she feels in Lexa’s arms, the smoothness of each movement and there’s absolutely no use in denying the warm flutter of her heart as the music continues to flow.

 

_Cause I keep falling. I’m still falling for your love_

_I keep falling, falling into your world_

 

She thinks that maybe it’s okay to let Lexa win the odd round, that there’s nothing wrong with a bit of healthy competition.

 

_With every love, every kiss. Every time we touch lips_

_My love always, every time till we miss_

_Every love, every cry. Every time till we die_

_Every love, every look. In your bright blue eyes_

 

Clarke’s arms are delicately posed, wrapped around Lexa’s neck, each step steady and cautious. She tries her best to seem disinterested, like the entire prospect of slow dancing with Lexa is a chore—of which she’s an unwilling participant.

She fails. Spectacularly.

It’s pathetic really, how in just a few short days she’s become so infatuation with a charade, a web of lies that is destined to dissolve. 

 

_It’s something we can’t say_

_It’s just the way we feel_

_We’ll be holding in secrets_

_Till they reveal_

_Cause I keep falling. I’m still falling for your love_

_I keep falling, falling into your world_

 

“You really are the complete package,” Clarke's admission is disguised as a joke but it’s not delivered with any other than a reluctant truth.

Lexa tightens her grip around Clarke’s waist and Clarke’s body jolts with something dangerously close to arousal as pulls her impossibly closer. For a split second Lexa’s steps become clumsy and rushed. If Clarke didn't know any better she’d think she wasn't the only one affected by the lack of space between them.

“It’s true what they say,” Lexa deflects, reverting back her default setting, her eyes briefly darting down to Clarke’s lips before she steadies herself, posture returning its real manner and her steps falling in time with the music. “You get what you pay for.”

Maybe sometimes you get a little more, Clarke thinks.

 

_With every love, every kiss. Every time we touch lips_

_My love always, every time till we miss_

_Every love, every cry. Every time till we die_

_Every love, every look. In your bright blue eyes_

 

Clarke dips her head to Lexa’s shoulder, soaks in her scent as she receives some much-needed respite from the intense eye contact. She has a very limited supply of restraint and her levels are dipping with every glance she sends to Lexa’s lips. 

The temptation to lean in is almost too much.

 

_In your bright, in your bright blue eyes_

_In your bright, in your bright blue eyes_

_In your bright, in your bright blue eyes_

_Every love, every look_

_In your bright blue eyes_

 

Lexa whispers the last line— gentle, slow, directed at Clarke, unmistakably so. Clarke’s head springs from its place on Lexa’s shoulder, her eyes searching her date’s face, frantic, searching for any that remotely resembles some form of confirmation. Something to tell that she hadn't just imagined the soft bristled words against her. 

There’s a moment where their eyes meet and Clarke thinks she understands just what Lexa is trying to say. A moment of clarity at it feels odd, incredibly so, to be sharing this moment together with a room full of people.

And Clarke really doesn't like the thought of sharing in general, but this moment especially, she wants to have it all to herself.

She tries not to think about the people, how these feeling wouldn't exist without them. She definitely doesn't think about how this is all just a ruse to keep them satisfied.

She so caught up in her own thoughts that she doesn't even see Lexa leaning in but she hears the soft whisper of her name and the distance grumbles from Wells, complaining that she’s ‘ _on the verge of upstaging the bride at her own wedding, no less’_

Clarke can’t find in herself to care, not when Lexa’s lips are pressed against hers.

The kiss is unhurried, delicate and tentative. Clarke’s nerves are tingling, so much so that it almost feels like a first kiss. Almost. Clarke sinks into Lexa’s touch, a content sigh escaping when Lexa runs her thumbs across her cheeks. Kissing Lexa for the second time is softer than Clarke had imagined it would be — a far cry from the rough, desire driven changed she’d pictured one too many times— but she feels every second of it, savours it.

She does her best to commit the feeling to memory. She wants to remember this. She wants to remember the way Lexa’s hands feel when they’re pulling her back in— firm and comforting.

Lexa’s teeth close around her bottom lip and it’s the final straw for Clarke, she has to pull back now, while she still can. While things are still relatively PG.

Clarke pulls back but Lexa doesn't let go, her hands moving back to Clarke’s waist in an attempt to keep her steady.

“Clarke,” Lexa breathes, nowhere near as collected as she’d hoped for and Clarke has to close her eyes, it’s all she can do to resit the alluring sound of her name coming from Lexa’s lips. She just needs a few more seconds, a few more seconds to pretend, to act like this isn't just a necessity for Lexa. 

The seconds stretch for longer than Clarke intends, but Lexa offers nothing more in a disturbance. Clarke thinks that maybe she understands, she knows that this is what she needs. She sways forward, rocking on her toes slightly, Lexa hold is secure enough that she doesn't fall.

_Just a few more seconds._

Apparently, she’s had her fill, her wish for a few more seconds denied.

The tender moment is quickly stifled by an overly aggressive tap on her shoulder. She spins, eager to put a face tot he cold hand that had the audacity to shatter the moment. Her curiosity is far from sated when her eyes land on an unfamiliar face, “Can I help you?” Clarke grits out, not really caring if the bite to her words is eloquently disguised with a faux smile.

The woman eyes Clarke, a smirk playing on her lips as their eyes meet, a smug expression like she knows a secret that Clarke’s yet to uncover, “I was wondering if I cut in, I believe I have some unfinished business with your _date._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bright blue eyes by Nina Nesbitt is the song used for the slow dance


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this one but I've done three different versions of this chapter and I was undecided as to which route to go down.

Clarke’s eyes go wide at the mordacity in the stranger’s phrasing. The word ‘date’ rolling off the intruder's tongue with a bite that Clarke wasn't expecting. She’s confused, obviously, they had been so careful to not let anything seem out of place and there was no denying that Lexa had played the role of girlfriend expertly. They’d managed to fool just about everyone, hell, at this point Clarke has all but managed to fool herself. She glances at Lexa alarmed, searches for some form of recognition to offer some sort of comfort, anything to soothe the impending panic of being outed as a liar and open herself up to the potential ridicule. 

The passive expression on her date’s face does nothing to stop the sinking feeling in Clarke’s stomach. Clarke whirls around to face the stranger once more, her smug expression has dimmed slightly as she rolls her eyes in annoyance, “Relax, I’m not going to blow your cover”

And okay, Clarke thinks that maybe she should be grateful of that. The reassurance is clearly an attempt to calm her nerves, get her to relax a little but in reality, the words have the direct opposite effect. Clarke studies her quickly, attempting to make a snap judgement of their intentions. She doesn't think that they’ve encountered each other before, or if they have, Clarke certainly doesn't remember it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Clarke replies, her attempts to play things cool are borderline embarrassing, her words are fumbled and her hand clutches Lexa’s for support.

The stranger's eyes zone in on the pair,“Is that so,” a devious glance down to their joined hands. “You know, I happen to know Lexa very well, you don’t have to pretend with me. I know what she gets up to in her spare time.” She throws a wink in Lexa’s direction for good effect.

Clarke’s not quite sure what to say to that, it’s obvious that their cover has well and truly been blown and there’s no use in defending it now. She also knows that it isn't really her place to speak up for Lexa or her business practice in general. She doesn't know enough about it, her knowledge is strictly limited to her own experience and that is certainly not enough information to work with. So, she forgoes the need to offer some witty comeback and turns her attention to her date.

Lexa. Lexa who has barely twitched since the interruption. Clarke’s eyes are pleading, a silent kind of begging, an unspoken prayer for her to resolve this with minimal damage. The last thing she wants to do is cause a scene at her mother’s wedding reception, especially after making it through the weekend relatively unscathed, it would be an immense frustration to fall at the last hurdle.

“Enough,” Lexa sighs, “Anya, you're starting to scare her.”

Clarke watches the exchange between the pair, Lexa’s impassive expression drops and a fond smile graces her face as she lets go of Clarke’s hand and pulls Anya into a tight embrace. The turn of events is confusing for Clarke, she feels an immense sense of relief, for obvious reasons, but mainly she’s just left confused. 

Still, she waits patiently for the two the catch-up. Unlike Anya, she’s not ill-mannered enough to interrupt a moment, even if she wants nothing more.

“Anya this is Clarke,” Lexa introduces once she’s released from Anya’s clutches,“ Clarke, this is Anya.”

Clarke nods but doesn't offer anything more. Still unsure as to whether she can trust the new arrival. Her smirk is both mischievous and intriguing and all too alluring.

“I have to say, Clarke, you’re certainly an upgrade from Lexa’s usual,” Anya pauses as if searching for the right word that accurately describes Clarke. She waves her hand, seemingly coming up empty, “Girlfriends.”

Despite the look of approval she’s receiving from Anya, Clarke’s not entirely sure if that’s a good thing.

“Are you hitting on my date?” Lexa asks incredulously. 

Anya holds her hands in defence and retreats one step, “Me? Flirting with your girl? I would never.” She would, without a shadow of doubt and they both know it. “All I’m saying is that she wouldn't have to pay me to be her date.” She adds throwing a wink in Clarke’s direction this time, revelling in flush the comment generates.

“You’re unbelievable,” Lexa scoffs   

“I’m sorry, how exactly do you two know each other?” Clarke cuts in, unable to hold back the question any longer. Her question isn't answered immediately, her curiosity causes a stark silence as the previous bickering comes to a halt.

Clarke can do nothing but watches on as a silent conversation takes place in front of her, words exchanged with mere glances and a subtle nod of confirmation from both parties.

“I suppose you could say that we were business partners, of sorts, once upon a time. Anya showed me the ropes when I was just starting out,” Lexa explains, “didn't take too kindly to me branching out on my own though.”

Anya makes a show of wiping away non-existence tear, “You know me. I’m always getting attached. It’s so hard to let go.”

“Why are you at my mother’s wedding?” Clarke probes, still beyond confused. She knows for a fact that Anya’s not a guest of her mother and she’s well-passed caring if her interruptions seem rude now. There is a slither of resentment every time she hears Anya’s voice, she remembers exactly what it cost her. She remembers the quiet whisper of her name leaving Lexa’s lips, she remembers the way she’d had to restrain herself when those lips were pressed against hers.

She thinks that maybe her resentment is more than a little justified.

Anya shrugs, “My uncle is the best man and there’s an open bar.”

The answer seems to be acceptable for Clarke, who lets the subject of Anya’s invitation drop. All in all, this has gone a whole lot better than she’d initially pictured. There was no big scene and she's inexplicably relieved to discover that Anya isn't some scorned ex-client. She doesn't think she would have been able to deal with the particulars of that.

“Anyway, Clarke as I was saying, you must be pretty special for this one,” Anya points her thumb towards Lexa and ignores the warning glance she gets from Lexa in return, “to come to a wedding. If I recall correctly, she once said to me that she would never be willing attend another wedding, job or otherwise.”

“You don't like weddings?” Clarke asks because it really hadn't showed, up until this point Lexa had been painstakingly professional, an absolute delight, she’d had guests swooning left and right. Clarke’s grandmother included.

“I never said that,” Lexa fires back her eyes trained on Anya. Her face softens as she turns to face Clarke, “I’ve just never loved weddings. They’re a lot of work”

Clarke cant help but smile as Lexa tries to defend her former self, despite knowing that Clarke hadn't wanted to attend in the first place. “They are,” Clarke agrees, she may not have had to put in as much effort as Lexa this weekend but she knows just how strenuous events like this can be, “but I like to think that it’s paid off.”

“Oh god, you two are disgusting,” Anya groans, “It’s really convincing but seriously you don’t have to keep up this act around me. I know how exhausting it can be.”

_An act._

Clarke hates that she keeps having to be reminded of Lexa’s occupation, the only reason she’s here. Still, there’s a small part of her that’s still hopeful, a small part of her that thinks that maybe Lexa feels the same, that Clarke isn't just imagining things. She thinks that maybe Lexa might have been on the verge of confessing just that when Anya unceremoniously shattered the little moment they’d created between themselves.

“Sorry, I guess I don't really know how to switch it off,” Clarke apologises, although she’s quite sure why she feels it’s necessary to do so.

Anya eyes her curiously, a brow arched and smile that can only be interpreted as sympathetic. “She has a way of doing that but this thing is nearly over now, so you won’t have to but up with her much longer.”

And just like that Clarke is reminded that she’s just another client in a long line of jobs, that this is all normal for Lexa and that it’s all coming to an end soon.

“Yeah,” Clarke replies with a nod, she doesn't need to be reminded of how much longer she has to survive this. She doesn't have to look to her left to know that Lexa is looking at her, she can feel the weight of the stare. It’s a mistake to look, she knows nothing good can come of it but it doesn't stop her from stealing a glance. The glance is just that, short and abrupt but it’s enough for Clarke to see everything she needs. “If you’ll excuse me,” she says with a vague gesture towards the other side of the room, “I think I’ve spent enough time dancing. I should probably mingle or something.”

She doesn't give anyone the chance to object. She's gotten rather good at slinking off when she doesn't want to face the music.

 

____________

 

“You know for someone so in love, you do seem to spend an awful lot of time avoiding your girlfriend?”

Clarke really doesn't appreciate the teasing tone that is offered her way. Usually, the words of her best friend provide a small ounce of comfort, something to take her mind of things but this time around they seem to have the opposite effect, or at least, they don’t serve the purpose of distracting her from Lexa.  “She’s not my girlfriend and you know it.” There’s a sharpness to the words that surprises Clarke. 

Raven, on the other hand, remains composed, she doesn't flinch at the hostility, she’d expected as much. “I see your solid plan of avoidance is paying off.”

“I’m really not in the mood for one your ambiguous pep talks, Raven.”

Raven remains unmoved. She’d walked over here with a plan and she’s going to follow through with it, lord knows that Clarke could use a push in the right direction every now and again. “Who said anything about ambiguous? I think I was crystal clear when I told you to just tell her how you feel.”

Clarke sits up a little, straightens her posture. “And I thought I was crystal clear about _not_ doing that.”

Raven lets out a thoughtful hum and bumps her shoulder against Clarke’s, “And how’s that working out for you?”

Clarke’s pretty sure that the question is rhetorical—her crumbling plan there for all to see— but she answers anyway, “Things have been better,” she admits.

“Thought so,” Raven replies and Clarke sincerely appreciates the way that it doesn't come off as an ‘I told you so’. It’s understanding and gentle and exactly what Clarke needs right now. “Don’t you think that maybe you’d feel better if you talked it out.”

“I thought that’s what we were doing”

“And here I thought we were just avoiding things for a little longer.”

“What if she doesn't feel the same? What if I’ve just made this whole thing up and I’m just some deranged client that couldn't accept that this was all just make believe?” Clarke’s words escape in a whisper, vulnerable and insecure.

“What if she does? What if she thinks that you’re not interest anything past this little show that you’ve put on together?” Raven waits for some form of response, a rebuttal, but nothing comes. Clarke shuffles closer and Raven puts an arm other her shoulders, “I know I said she was good, Clarke- but I saw you two earlier, dancing together and please believe me when I tell you that no one is that _good_ at pretending. Not even, Lexa”

 

____________

 

The last thing that Abby expects to see is Lexa sitting alone and sulking over a drink. Lexa without a circle of adoring fans has been a rarity throughout the course of the weekend. She’d watched the earlier events, it would have been impossible to avoid watching the way Lexa and Clarke seemed to connect on the dance floor, just about everyone in the room had been witness to it. All in all, it just makes the fact that Lexa is sitting alone all that more surprising.

“Don’t tell me Clarke’s left you to fend for yourself, yet again?” Abby says as she slumps down next to Lexa, she’s had more than her fair share of alcohol and although the effects are well and truly starting to set in she does her best to disguise it.

“I’m afraid so, I haven't seen her since our dance earlier.” Lexa does her best to perk herself up and paint on that smile that she’s become accustomed to using for times like this, it usually works or at least she’s never been called out on it before. Abby’s face lets Lexa know that she’s seen right through it.

“Did something happen between you two?” Abby asks gently, not wanting to overstep. Lexa looks reluctant to share, and she doesn't want to push too hard. She receives a bewildered shake of the head before Lexa seems to doubt herself.

“I don’t know, I think maybe—”

“I think maybe you should tell her how you feel,” Abby is not shy in her admittance, she’s watched her daughter intently over this weekend and despite what Clarke seems to think she’s not that hard to read. Abby knows every tell, she recognises every twitch, knows the meaning behind every crinkle of a brow. It’s her job as her mother, and she likes to think she’s well-versed in everything that is Clarke by now.

Lexa goes to reply, has a reply on the tip of her tongue, a valiant sentence that basically states that she’s pretty sure Clarke knows how she feels but Clarke’s mother is talking again before she can ever get the lie out of her mouth.

“I think I’ve played along for long enough, don't you?”

“I- uh- I don't know what you’re insinuating, Mrs Griffin.” Lexa is fumbling with her words, she has no experience of this, she’s never been caught out before. Still, even she’s a little disappoint her attempt to rebuff the accusation.

“I think you do,” Abby’s smirks and Lexa braces herself for a whirlwind of disapprovals, some comment about how her line of work is morally disruptive, it’s nothing new, she’s head it all before but that doesn't mean that she likes hearing it. To her surprise, Abby’s next words are free from judgement. “I’ll admit that I didn't see at first but I had the strangest feeling that I’d seen you before and it was eating away at me you know, not being able to place you. Then it hit me, Raven’s mom’s birthday party, last year. You really did put on quite a show, I’m surprised that it took me as long as it did to recognise you.”

Most of Abby’s disbelief is directed at herself but Lexa still feels the need to offer an apology, for her behaviour at that particular birthday party at least. She’s particularly proud of the way she’d managed to get under everyone’s skin but she knows how it looks without the right context. “I’m sorry about that, Raven—”

Her explanation is cut short as Abby jumps in once again, “Likes to piss off her mother, I know.” Lexa is surprised by the small smile that makes its way onto Abby’s face, “And really, I don't blame her, she deserves it most of the time and I like I said, you really did put in one hell of a performance. I have no doubt Clarke would have enjoyed watching it,” she adds with a light chuckle.

“I don’t understand, if you knew about us why didn't you say anything?”

Abby lets out sigh, “Look, I know why daughter very well, I know what she looks like when she’d telling even the smallest of lies but this was different,” Lexa watches on curiously as Abby seems to struggle to find the right words, “She likes to pretend that she doesn't tell me things, but I know for a fact that if she’d been dating you for as long as she claims to have been, then I would have heard about you before now. Because she likes to boast, believe you me, and I have a feeling that she wouldn't be able to stop talking about you.”

Lexa tries to stop the invading blush forming on her cheeks, “ I still don't understand why you didn't say something,” she repeats.

“Well, at first I thought what harm can it do, Clarke hates coming to these things and if bringing you along meant that she enjoyed it a little more than so be it,” she shrugs,“there’s no need to make her feel embarrassed about it. Besides, in terms of unexpected guests to host, you’re not so bad.” Abby sees the way that Lexa’s mouth opens, grabbling at a response so she holds her hand up to signal that she’s not quite done yet, “But…” she says, “I’ve seen the way she looks at you, I saw you two dancing earlier and honestly? You put me and Marcus to shame.”

“Mrs, Griffin, I really don't see what this has to do with my feelings.”

Abby rolls her eyes, growing increasingly frustrated with Lexa’s inability to read between the lines, especially when she’s not being entirely subtle with her overall point. “What I’m saying, Lexa, is that I know my daughter and I’ve seen the way she looks at you and I know that this isn't just some well put together backstory that she’s playing out.”

“I think you’re mistaken, this is just a job—” 

Lexa’s protests are cut off once more as Abby tuts her disapproval, “I’ve also seen the way that you look at her, this isn't just some job to you. I think just about everyone here tonight can see that, Well, everyone except Clarke that is. My point is Lexa... if you don’t tell her how you feel you’re going to regret it.”

“I should tell her how I feel,” Lexa says, more to herself than Abby.

Abby nods, hands in the air as she whispers a muted ‘thank god’. “Yes, and you should do it quick. If I know my daughter she’s off somewhere convincing herself that’s she just making this all up.” Abby stands, rests her hand on Lexa’s shoulder to steady herself. Once she feels like she’s got her balance she gives it a light squeeze and offers some last words of encouragement, “And Lexa?” She waits for Lexa to look up before continuing, “I told her you were a good one, and I do hate being wrong.”

It’s a quiet warning but Lexa hears it loud and clear. She nods in understanding and watches as Abby makes her way over to her waiting husband.

 

____________

 

It doesn't take long for Lexa to track down Clarke, in fact, there’s no tracking involved at all. Once she finally summons the courage to stand, she turns to find Clarke directly in front of her, with steel like determination written into her features. For a second she thinks that maybe she’s not the only one that’s had some sense drilled into them. She doesn't get a chance to voice any of her feelings though, she pulled away before she can even question how Clarke knew where she was in the first place.

“Clarke, where are we going?” Clarke doesn't answer, she pulls them away in silence, she wants a little privacy for this moment and that’s not going to happen if she’s surrounded by the last remnants of the wedding party. There’s still a small chance that she’s all alone in the feelings department and she wants to be sure that if that’s the case, there’s no audience to watch her demise.

They come to halt in a deserted hallway, and Clarke turns to hold Lexa in place, she runs over the words she wants to say, she wants to be sure that this all comes out right. That she’s eloquent and clear, that there are definitely no opening for any misunderstandings. Still, even with all the practice in the world, she’s not equipped to handle the look that she’s getting from Lexa, it’s not too dissimilar from the one she’d seen just after they’d kissed on the dance floor, it’s soft and gentle and it’s too much. It’s just too much and with it, Clarke’s restraint crumbles, her practised words forgotten as she pulls Lexa in for a kiss.

There’s a brief moment where Clarke thinks that maybe this wasn't such a good idea, that kissing Lexa might just be the biggest mistake yet, but then Lexa is kissing her back. Her lips just as eager as Clarke’s. An unbridled amount of relief floods Clarke’s system, there’s no audience for them to pander to, no family members to fool, no pretences, just them. They’re alone.

And Lexa is kissing her back. 

Clarke has things to say, so many things but she thinks they can wait for a moment more.

The kiss is a far cry from the one they’d shared earlier, this kiss is not delicate, it’s not tender. Lexa’s touch is rough and a little rushed, she moves as if this could end at any moment and instead of savouring each second, she’s eagerly trying to experience it all, that she doesn't want to miss out on a single thing that Clarke has to offer. It’s a crash course of a kiss but the it's exactly the kind desire-driven intensity that has invaded so many of Clarke’s dream of late.

Clarke takes control of the kiss, her teeth biting down on Lexa’s bottom lip. A content sigh escaping as Lexa groans at the sensation. The sound itself is enough to make Clarke pull Lexa impossibly closer and Lexa doesn't hesitant to comply with the unspoken request.

Any spiked thoughts of regret that Clarke had held are quickly shelved as Lexa walks them back, only stopping when Clarke’s back is solid against the wall of the empty corridor. Lexa is harried with her steps and frantic with her hands. They’re indecisive in their efforts, too caught up in where to touch first, and the fact that she’s allowed to touch anything at all, in the end she settles for a little of everything. Her hands run smoothly down the side of Clarke’s body, lips never leaving Clarke’s.

When Lexa’s hands begin to travel up her thighs, Clarke has a hard time remembering just what she had wanted to say in the first place.

It’s Clarke that has the good sense to pull back, her breathing shallow as she begrudgingly removes herself from Lexa’s touch, “We can’t do this here,” she mumbles, her displeasure at having to break apart more than clear.

Lexa surveys their surroundings, the hallway might be empty but there was no guarantee that they wouldn't be disturbed at some point, “I know.”

They stand in silence for a minute, the sound of harsh breathing the only thing that can be heard between them as their pulses return to a normal resting rest. “I had a plan,” Clarke says, “I had things that I was going to say.” she adds, “and you’re distracting me.”

“You kissed me! if anyone is doing the distracting, it’s you,” Lexa accuses

“You kissed me back!” Clarke huffs, her hands moving animatedly.

“You can’t kiss me like that and expect me not to kiss you back. Was I not supposed to kiss you back?”

Clarke lets out a deep sigh and distances herself from Lexa, she needs a bit of breathing space, a chance to collect her thoughts. This is definitely not how she’d mapped out this conversation and she needs to salvage it before they get too far off track. There’s also the unfortunate selection of Lexa’s words, that’s precisely what she needs to figure out. She doesn't want Lexa to kiss her back because she’s _supposed_ too. She wants it to feel like a necessity, not something that's part and parcel to the role. “No I wanted you to kiss me, I just— I want you to _want_ to kiss me, and not because you need the affection to sell some fake relationship, I want you to tell me that this is real, this thing between us. I want you to tell me that I’m the only one, that I’m not just losing myself in the pretence of us.” Clarke steadies herself, prepares for the smallest rejection but it never comes.

“I _wanted_ to kiss you. I _wanted_ to kiss you just now. I _wanted_ to kiss you on the dance floor. I _wanted_ to kiss you when that god awful woman was pestering you about setting up some date.” Lexa punctuates each confession with a step forward, invading Clarke’s space. If she going to she’s going to confess, she decides she may as well go all in with it. “I _wanted_ to kiss you when I first heard you read that speech. I _wanted_ to kiss you when you couldn't stop staring at me in this tux.” Lexa’s hands move to cup Clarke’s face, she tilts her chin so she can look into Clarke’s eyes. She knows she can be difficult to read, well apparently she’s not that difficult considering how easily Abby had managed to put the pieces together. Either way, she wants to be clear about this, she doesn't want there to be any doubts, a single glimmer of maybe it’s not real. “I _want_ you, Clarke. I _want_ to kiss you now.”

Clarke’s eyes dart down to Lexa’s lips, “What about your number one rule?” She whispers

Lexa smirks, it’s the kind of smirk that lets Clarke know that she has an answer for this, that she’s not the only one with a plan. “I don’t remember saying anything about _me_ falling for _you_.”


End file.
